


Undercover Maid

by WestOrEast



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Futanari, Girl Penis, Italian Mafia, Lolicon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: Going undercover was one thing. Seducing someone was another. Going undercover to seduce a young girl is something else entirely. But if there's one thing that Abby can do, it's earn her paycheck. No matter what she ends up doing or feeling.
Comments: 48
Kudos: 314





	1. Chapter 1

**Undercover Maid Chapter One**

  
Abby glanced around the small back room of the pub as she stepped into it. There was nobody waiting in the corners and there was nothing big enough for someone to hide behind. She relaxed her guard, just a bit, and focused on the one person who was actually in the room.  
  
He was obviously going for the ‘distinguished older gentleman’ look, with an expensive black suit, lean features, greying hair and a silver tipped cane. It all screamed out ‘lawyer’ or possibly ‘banker’, though the situation made Abby add ‘mob’ as an adverb to each of the former.  
  
“Hello, young ma’am,” he said, gesturing her to the seat on the other side of the table he was sitting at. “It is a pleasure to see you.”  
  
“Same here,” Abby said, giving him a quick once over as she sat down. No obvious weapons, not that that meant much. “Especially if we’re here to talk business.”  
  
“Yes,” he said with a sad sigh, “that does seem like the only thing beautiful young women want to talk to me about in the past decade or so.” He smiled faintly, while Abby’s face remained still. “Now, what do you know about our fair city?”  
  
“Not much,” Abby said with a shrug. “It’s a medium sized town and given all those pamphlets I saw at the hotel, you have a large wine industry. Beyond that?” She shrugged again.  
  
“Indeed, I am partial to a fine bottle of Château Crimson myself,” the old man said. “But something that will not appear in the tourist materials is that there are certain,” he tapped his cane on the tiled floor, “interests in the town.”  
  
Abby leaned forward. This was when things started to get important and she didn’t want to miss a moment of it. In her line of work, bad information was more likely than anything else to end up killing her.  
  
“There are five different families,” he continued. “The Rose’s, the Scaranos, the Romero’s, the Cruz’s and the Franchetti’s.” He cleared his throat. “It’s hardly the most pleasant of arrangements, having so many powerful men in such a small town as Pavioa, but it does have it’s advantages. Such as no one family being able to exert too much control.”  
  
Abby nodded, noting that so far he had entirely avoided being too clear about just what these families did. Not that there was any real question in her line of work.  
  
“Sadly, the Cruz’s and the Rose’s do not see the present state of affairs as something to be continued,” he continued in a practiced way that made the needle in Abby’s mind switch more towards ‘lawyer’ than ‘banker’. “They think that if they cannot rule our fair town of by themselves alone, then sharing it with each other is an appropriate second-best.”  
  
Abby nodded. And all the pieces were coming together.  
  
“And you want me to disrupt the arrangement,” she said, leaning back in the chair. “I’m guessing there aren’t enough back-street brawlers for you to call on to handle this sort of thing yourself?”  
  
“Of course there are,” the man said stiffly. “However, there is a better way than the kind of unsightly violence that would call far too much attention from parties that have no need to interest themselves in our affairs.”  
  
“I’m sorry for impugning your noble intentions,” Abby said dryly. “And what is this better way?  
  
“The two families are sealing their alliance in the most traditional of ways,” the old man continued. “Two young scions from each house will marry and, in the fullness of time, inherit both families.” He shrugged slightly. “Perhaps the other families could do the same amongst themselves, however, there are too many in each of the three who are too proud of their heritage and name to consider such a thing. They would rather that the five families _return_ to being five families, instead of such a radical change.”  
  
“That sounds familiar enough,” she tapped her finger on the table top, before stopping and trying to wipe away whatever sticky substance she had just covered her fingertip with. “So you want me to deal with one or both of the young couple?” She tilted her head to one side. “And,” she ran a hand through her long, strawberry blonde hair, “I’m guessing that by calling me instead of one of the family’s normal problem solvers, you want something else than a thorough beating?”  
  
“Exactly as you say,” the man said, tapping his cane on the floor again. “Both of the young people are women. Irene Rose and Maria Cruz. Young Irene is in a certain way,” Abby restrained a snort at how the old man avoided saying that she had a dick. She hadn’t heard _that_ euphuism in a good decade or so. “So if some photos are obtained of her behaving disgracefully with someone other than her intended, things would almost certainly be broken off. Especially with the elder Cruz’s temper.”  
  
“And you think that there’s a better chance of her ‘behaving disgracefully’ with someone like me,” Abby waved a hand at her body, “then with your usual problem solvers, who have a body like a bull and a face like a cow’s behind?” She laughed, a quick chuckle at the thought of how the world worked. “I do believe you have a point.”  
  
Abby was a lot less thrilled at the thought of becoming, well, a prostitute. She had slept with people before to get what she wanted, but that had always been more incidental, something that had come up over the course of the mission, and not the entirety of the mission itself. On the other hand, if she was a _well-paid_ prostitute, that would take a great deal of the sting out of things.  
  
“For explicit photos that show beyond doubt that young Ms. Rose has not stayed faithful to her intended,” the man said, “the three families are willing to pay seven hundred thousand euros.” Abby nodded. That was a nice payout for something that shouldn’t be too difficult, but not so much, especially given the potential benefits for them, that it was suspicious. “Of course, you have until the end of the year to obtain them.” He smiled, a cold, wintery smile. “The wedding will not be for some time, after all.”  
  
“Half now, half when it’s done?” Abby asked. At the man’s frown, she crossed her arms underneath her chest. “You wouldn’t be coming to me if you didn’t know my reputation for getting things done, sir,” she said. “It _will_ happen.”  
  
“Very well,” the man said, waving his hand. “Very well.” He then stuck his hand out for Abby to take. “I look forward to excellent results from you, madam.”  
  
Abby smiled and took the hand.  
  
“I live to serve.”

  
*******

  
It was a beautiful summer day and Abby was enjoying a cold drink at a café table out in the sun. And, of course, waiting for her target to appear. Mostly so that she could get a good idea of who her target actually _was_. It was amazing that in this day and age, there wasn’t a single photo of who she was going after.  
  
As Abby slowly sipped her drink, she ignored the looks she was getting. Well, she knew she was getting the looks, and who was looking _at_ her, but she didn’t return them. Of course she was getting stared at. She was very beautiful and with how hot it was today, she was _not_ going to be wearing too much.  
  
A simple, elegant blouse and skirt with sensible shoes that showed off her body without being obvious or common about it. And bought with the money she had gotten from her last job. Not that she would have worn this outfit in Sweden. Italy was so much better for this sort of thing.  
  
Abby sat up as a large SUV with tinted windows slowly made its way through the packed, curving street. That had to be from the Rose family. The shade of red was an obvious hint, as was the less obvious signs of the armoring and bulletproof glass that had been worked into the vehicle.  
  
The SUV was moving at no quicker than a walking pace. Leaving some change on the tabletop, Abby stood up and started to follow it, sliding through the market day crowds with far greater ease than the driver of the car was managing. It was so easy, in fact, that she had to pace herself so that she didn’t end up walking right by the driver’s window as she followed it.  
  
It eventually stopped in front of an elementary school. _That_ made Abby’s eyebrows rise, as she wondered just what kind of business a mobster had here.  
  
She got her answer as two doors opened. One of the people who got out was obviously hired muscle, wearing a dark suit that badly fit him. The other was a young girl, perhaps twelve, perhaps eleven. Cute as a button in her school uniform, but nothing more than that.  
  
Abby sighed. So much for that lead. Oh well, there was still plenty of time to find the elusive Irene, who didn’t go to clubs or post online.  
  
“Here you are, ma’am,” the thug rumbled as Abby got closer to the two of them. “I’ll pick you up this afternoon at the normal time.”  
  
“Can’t you call me Irene, Rubio?” the young girl said with a sigh as Abby’s eyes got really big. She almost stumbled as she kept on walking and was barley able to keep herself under control. “You’ve known me my entire life.”  
  
“No, ma’am,” the thug, Rubio said. “I’ll see you this afternoon, ma’am.”  
  
Abby wanted to turn her head around like it was mounted on a swivel to get a better view of her suddenly found target. Instead, she had to content herself with what she could see out of the corner of her eye.  
  
And yes, it _was_ a kid. Irene was just a little girl, not the young woman that Abby had been told to seduce. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Abby had limits in what she was willing to do for a paycheck. Previously, those limits had mostly involved only killing people who deserved to die, instead of people’s who death would make her job easier. Not fucking kids hadn’t been part of her rules because who would ever have expected that the situation would come up? But now it _had_ , and Abby was going to need to go explain the realities of the situation. Possibly with a baseball bat.

*******

Three hours later, Abby, still steaming mad, slipped into Antonio Balducci’s office. He looked up as she entered and then his eyes got very wide indeed, as he sprang out from his chair and backed against the wall, shaking and gasping.  
  
“Y-you!” He gasped, his voice thin and reedy. “Why are you here? How did you _get_ here?”  
  
“It wasn’t hard to find you,” Abby said with a snort, picking up the silver-tipped cane and tossing it from hand to hand. “If you’re trying to stay anonymous, don’t bring something so distinctive with you. Do you know how easy it was to ask about old lawyers who went around with a cane?”  
  
Abby paused for a moment, letting the tension build. Then she snorted and tossed the cane towards Balducci. He caught it and sank down into his chair. Abby was impressed, despite herself, at how quickly he was recovering.  
  
“Why are you here?” He asked again, his voice starting to sound like that of a lawyer’s again. “If you already have the photos, then I don’t need to see them. Just leave them at the place we discussed.”  
  
“I’m not here about that,” Abby said, taking a perch on his walnut desk. “I’m here about Irene.” She narrowed her eyes, fixing him with the second-hardest look she could muster. It didn’t have as much of an effect as she would have thought. “You somehow seem to have avoided mentioning how young she is. Is she _really_ getting married?”  
  
“Of course she is,” Balducci said stiffly. “In six year’s time, but none of us thought that we should wait that long to see if events would interfere before that time arrived.”  
  
“Six years,” Abby said flatly. “What is-“ she stopped herself before she said anything more and breathed in and out deeply. She noticed that the lawyer watched her chest rise and fall. “Well, unlike you, I think that a great deal can happen in six years. Enough that there’s no reason for me to have to go get fucked by a kid.”  
  
“Ma’am,” the lawyer said coolly. “You have already taken, by your own insistence, half of the payment that we agreed on. You _will_ uphold your end of the bargain. That you did not ask questions about Ms. Rose’s age is not something I feel can justify breaking the contract we agreed on.” The smile that went across his face was as cold as ice. “A verbal contract, but a contract none the less.”  
  
Abby tapped her fingers on the desk as she thought. He had a point, damn him. A reputation for keeping your word was _big_ in the underworld. People wanted to know who they could rely on, who could be trusted. And as little as she liked what had been kept from her, it wasn’t nearly enough to make her look good is she broke faith here.  
  
“Oh very well,” she said grumpily, rising to her feet and pointing at the lawyer. “I’ll uphold my end of the deal. But if there are _any_ other surprises,” she shook her head and drew a finger across her throat, “it’s over.”  
  
“If there are any surprises, we shall learn of them together,” Balducci said. His pale blue eyes narrowed. “And I see no reason for you to come here ever again.”  
  
“You better hope there’s not a reason for me to come here,” Abby said, heading towards the door. “You won’t like what happens if I do.”

*******

  
Abby sighed to herself as she stared at the Rose mansion. Crime sure did pay. Hell, wasn’t that why she was in this line of work, to get as much money as she could while she was still young enough to properly enjoy it?  
  
And speaking of enjoyment… Abby smoothed down the front of her apron. Dressing up as a maid to get inside the place. She had done that once before. But that maid outfit had been an _actual_ maid outfit, instead of the end result of a process that was mostly concerned with how well an attractive young woman would look in it instead of how easy it would be for her to clean in it.  
  
Actually, Abby forced herself to be fair, it wasn’t _that_ bad. The worst bit were the heels, of course. They weren’t the highest heels Abby had ever worn, but her feet were still going to be sore at the end of the day.  
  
Of course, the heels were only the worst thing when it came to how it would affect her work. When it came to what she looked like, well, that was an entirely different story.  
  
Abby looked good in most things, she knew that. With her body, her large breasts, her big butt, her waist, her hips, her thighs, all of that, she turned heads most of the time. But in a French maid outfit, especially one like this, she _really_ looked… sexy. Yeah, that was the phrase she was going to use. Sexy, instead of, say, slutty.  
  
In hindsight, given that the pay was no more than average, Abby may not have had to do everything she had done to get the other maid to quite her job. On the other hand, the little black-haired woman _had_ been pretty cute and she _had_ reacted quite nicely to Abby eating her out. And, of course, what was done was done.  
  
Abby went around to the rear entrance, like she was supposed to, her heels clacking on the stone path. As she did so, she looked around. If all went well, she wouldn’t need to use an escape route or hide anywhere. But if it _didn’t_ , then it would certainly be necessary for her to know where they were.  
  
The wall around the property would be the most difficult bit, she decided. It was tall and topped with decorative, but still sharp, spikes. It would be a struggle to get over it. But inside the fence? The water features and the shrubbery scattered around would give her plenty of space to either hide or slow down anyone chasing her. Good to see, very good to see.  
  
Abby knocked on the small rear door that the servants (three maids and a butler) were supposed to use. After a second, it opened up, to reveal Abby’s new boss. Maria, a woman in her late thirties who was still very attractive. Which seemed to be the main qualification for working here, given how easily Abby had sailed through the interview.  
  
“Almost late on your first day,” Maria said, giving her an unfriendly look. “Not a good start, Abby, not a good start at all.”  
  
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Abby said, even though it was still ten minutes before eight, when she was supposed to arrive. “I hope to do better!”  
  
That got a snort and then Maria was leading her through the house, telling her what she was expected to be doing. There wasn’t as much of it as Abby would have thought. She supposed that there were three maids because the so-far unseen master of the Rose family enjoyed looking at beautiful women in maid outfits, instead of actually _needing_ three maids.  
  
The first few weeks at the Rose manor was spent doing the usual maid chores. Cleaning, dusting, a bit of cooking. And, of course, dealing with all the male attention Abby got. The maid uniform really _did_ show off her cleavage quite well. And the skirt and the heels did the same for her butt. Nobody had gotten too handy, though Abby did have to drop a few hint, mostly involving using a nutcracker in an extremely obvious way.  
  
And that still left plenty of time to deal with the real reason Abby was here. Irene. And even though Abby wasn’t much one for kids, she still thought that if things had been otherwise, she could have gotten along well with the young girl.  
  
It helped that Irene was lonely. Very, very lonely and not at all looking forward to having someone to spend time with in six years.  
  
“Momma married Poppa because she loved him,” Irene said one day, pacing back and forth in her room as Abby changed her sheets. “Rubio married his Maria because he loved her. So why do I have to marry that stuck-up Cruz girl?”  
  
“It’s hardly my place to say,” Abby said calmly as she slid the pillow into the pillowcase. “What do you think of your fiancé?”  
  
Abby privately thought that the people of Pavioa could stand to find some new names for their female children. There was Maria, the head maid. And there were the unseen Marias that Rubio was married to and that Irene would eventually marry. Really, there was being good Catholics (and could you really be a good Catholic when you were neck deep in murder, fraud, extortion, drug-running, etc. etc.?) and then there was being repetitive.  
  
“I don’t like her,” Irene said with a scowl, collapsing onto her chair and watching Abby make her bed. “She always spends her time talking about horses and running around outside and a whole bunch of boring, sweaty stuff.”  
  
“There are certain things you can do that make you sweaty that almost everyone ends up being in favor of,” Abby said, not able to bring herself to look at the twelve-year-old girl as she inelegantly dangled an innuendo in front of her. “In time, you may find yourself enjoying them as well.”  
  
Irene snorted, giving her opinion of that ever happening. Abby finished making the bed and straightened up, looking at the girl she was supposed to seduce.  
  
Irene was already a beauty, that much was clear and obvious. She had dark blonde hair in two elegant tails that went down to her back, kept in place with a network of ribbons that Abby helped her put in place every day. She had a cute, heart-shaped face with pale skin and hazel eyes. Really, in ten years, or maybe even less than that, she was going to have her pick of anyone she wanted to. People would be falling over themselves to have a shot at her.  
  
Not that Abby could wait ten years. And what made it more difficult, in a certain sense, was that she was beginning to think she wouldn’t _have_ to wait for ten years. Irene wasn’t as obvious in her appreciation of how Abby’s uniform showed off her body, but she certainly wasn’t subtle enough to hide that sort of thing from a woman like Abby.  
  
And Abby, to her shame, was enabling that. She would bend over instead of kneel down when Irene was in the room. She would put her arms on either sides of her breasts, pushing them together even more than what the uniform would naturally cause. There were any number of minor tricks and ways that Abby could draw Irene’s attention to her body. Abby wasn’t proud of any of them, but she still did them, still used her body to entice a _kid_. Boy, it was a good thing she wasn’t a Catholic, because she would have to spend a _long_ time in the confessional if she was.  
  
“Ugh,” Irene said, blushing a bit and dragging her eyes away from Abby to look out the window, down the hill to town. “I don’t like that sort of thing.”  
  
“What would you like to do, Miss Irene?” Abby asked, stepping in front of Irene, stopping just a meter or so away. “If your homework is all done, then the rest of the afternoon should be yours to do with as you please.”  
  
“I want to go wander around the streets,” Irene said moodily, still looking out the window. “Rosa from school does that all the time, talking to her other friends and buying treats.” She scowled. “But because Poppa is up to his neck in illegal stuff, he won’t let me go out there and have a normal life!” Her feet started to kick back and forth and Abby could see her fingers tightening on the armrests. “Instead I have to stay up here on the hill until I go get married to Ms. Stuck-up and become the head of Rose-Cruz family.” She rolled her eyes. “As if that’s something that I should get excited over.”  
  
Abby didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the first time that Irene had said something like that. For someone who seemed to be aware that, as the daughter of a crime family, she could be put in danger, she was very free with sharing her opinions, even with someone she didn’t know _that_ well.  
  
“What it’s like, being a normal girl?” Irene asked, turning her gaze to Abby. “Not having to worry about all of this and being able to visit your friends whenever you want to?”  
  
Abby didn’t really have much of an answer to give to Irene. Her childhood may not have been that of a mafia princess, but that didn’t mean that it normal and mundane, either. Instead, she shrugged and knelt down next to Irene. She noticed how the girl’s cheeks turned red and how she looked at Abby’s cleavage for two seconds before lifting her gaze.  
  
“There’s always difficulties, no matter the life,” Abby said, resting one hand on top of Irene’s. “But there are still good things to your life, aren’t there?” She smiled brightly. “I certainly wouldn’t have met you if you were just some normal girl.”  
  
That made Irene turn bright red and turn her head away again, muttering something. Abby couldn’t make out what it was, and, frankly, she didn’t _need_ to know what it was. The mere fact that Irene was muttering like this was enough to let her know that she had had an effect.  
  
That she would be seducing a child… Abby’s mind just kept on coming back to it, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it. Sure, some people would say that having sex with a kid was a lot less bad than killing people. But the people Abby had killed had _deserved_ to die. While Irene was a perfectly wonderful girl, who would probably be a lot happier if she was living in a house that wasn’t bought and paid for with the proceeds of organized crime.  
  
Well, it wasn’t as if Abby could change that. Instead, she just, she swallowed to herself, not really enthused over the idea, needed to get Irene to like and to trust her so that, eventually, she could have sex with the young girl and record the entire thing. And then take a long, _long_ shower afterwards, because even though Irene was as cute as a button and Abby wouldn’t be _forcing_ her into doing this, Abby still had standards.  
  
“And maybe you can end up being a force for good,” Abby said, looking at Irene and wondering just what the hell she was doing. Her job didn’t involve nudging Irene into a life of philanthropy. But Irene was just so _cute_ and so upset over how her family made its money. “You’re going to be the head of the family one day,” she continued, stepping forward and resting a hand on Irene’s shoulder. “It will be _you_ deciding what the family does and where it spends its efforts.”  
  
Irene nodded, looking thoughtful. Abby smiled as she looked down at Irene. Then Irene smiled in turn and looked up at her. Unlike most men who had been in her position, her eyes went straight up to Abby’s face instead of lingering on the cleavage that was right in front of Irene’s head.  
  
“You’re right, Abby,” Irene said. “Thanks for the pep talk!”  
  
Abby could recognize a dismissal when she heard one. She bowed slightly and stepped back. Irene got out of her chair and started walking to her bookcase as Abby left the room.  
  
Abby sighed to herself as she stepped out of Irene’s room, closing the door behind her. What kind of person was she, doing this sort of thing? Well, at least she could beat herself up over a whole pile of money.  
  
“Oh, it’s Abby, isn’t it?”  
  
Abby straightened up as she heard the voice from down the hallway. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, she chided herself, not looking around to see who could be watching her. What kind of professional was she supposed to be, if she let someone sneak up on her?  
Especially this guy. Abby turned around, putting a small, meaningless smile on her face. It was Luigi Rose, the head of the family. And he actually looked like it, as if he had gotten his ideas on how to behave from an American mafia movie. He was wearing a three-piece, black suit and shiny shoes, his black and grey hair slicked back and cut close to the scalp, the whole nine yards.  
  
And it was quite obvious where the idea to hire pretty girls as maids and put them in tight, revealing costumes had come from. His eyes and his leer told the whole story as they ran along Abby’s exposed skin.  
  
“Yes, sir?” Abby asked, pressing her hands together in front of her stomach. “Can I help you?”  
  
“Not while my wife is in the house,” he said, giving Abby a long look, from head to toe. Abby felt a faint blush start to form as she felt his eyes lingering on her bare skin. And there was quite a bit of bare skin. “As for later… who knows?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Abby said, not having anything else she really could say. She was supposed to be a pliant little maid, after all, who certainly had no way to resist the head of one of the local crime families if he wanted something. “But right now, I need to go help Maria dust downstairs.”  
  
Mr. Rose nodded and stepped to the side, letting her walk past him. Abby had a rather full stride even in her normal walking pace, and wearing these heels meant that things were even more exaggerated. She was sure that Mr. Rose got a good long look at her ass as she headed downstairs. But he didn’t try to stop her.  
  
Abby, Maria and Carla had already finished dusting for the day, of course. But there was no reason that Mr. Rose needed to know that, especially if it let Abby get a whole floor away from him. She supposed that she might be well served in seducing him, or at least getting access to his office for paperwork and such. And that _had_ been something she had done in a number of past jobs, as a maid or a friend of the wife from out of town or even just as a guest. But unless Balducci was willing to pay her for that, he wouldn’t be getting anything of the sort. And anyway, seducing a preteen kid was more than enough work for Abby, anyway.  
  
Abby wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to finish the job and make Irene have sex with her, but she wasn’t going to try and take on too much and get smacked down for it. After all, Irene was just a twelve-year-old girl. At her age, Abby had been… well, Abby’s life wasn’t a good model even for a normal girl, let alone a mafia princess. But sex and such had still not been a hugely clear concept. Baby steps, that was the key.  
  
After all, Abby had plenty of time.

*******

“You look very lovely today, ma’am,” Abby said, looking Irene over.  
  
And she did. She really did. Irene was a cutie anyway, but in this dress and in this hairstyle, with her hair falling down her back in a long wave, she really looked quite a long ways beyond good.  
  
“Oh, that’s,” Irene stammered, looking off to the side and blushing cutely. “It’s just for tonight’s party.”  
  
“Are you looking forward to it?” Abby asked. She knew she sure wasn’t. Not when she had worked all day long already. And not, quite frankly, when she looked this good and was wearing this slutty of a costume, not when she was going to be around grown men with the booze flowing.  
  
“No,” Irene said instantly, crossing her arms underneath her chest and making a face. “I’m going to have to spend a lot of time with _her_ and act like I’m in love with her.” She groaned heavily and sat down in a chair. “Maybe if I break my leg I won’t have to go.”  
  
“Then everyone will come to visit you in your hospital room, ma’am,” Abby said, trying to stifle a snort. “Is she really that bad?”  
  
“Yes,” Irene said just as quickly as last time. “I don’t _want_ to get married to her. I want to get married to…” she looked around the room and sighed. “I don’t know who I want to marry. Maybe nobody.”  
  
Abby looked down at Irene. Despite her beautiful face, with just a few subtle hints of makeup that her mother had put on, and despite the beautiful blue and white dress that must have cost a great deal, Irene looked miserable. It wasn’t a good quality for someone in Abby’s line of work, but she still felt very sad for the little girl.  
  
Abby knelt down and wrapped Irene in a hug. Irene gasped and Abby could feel her going stiff. Then she returned the hug, pressing her body up against Abby’s and holding on tight.  
  
Abby stroked the back of Irene’s head, wondering if she should say something. And if so, _what_ she should say. That maybe she wouldn’t have to marry Maria? Well, how would Abby know that. Saying that she wouldn’t have to do that because Abby was going to get scandalous photos of her and Irene to ruin the marriage and drive the families apart wasn’t the kind of thing that Irene was going to find very reassuring.  
  
“It’s still six years away,” Abby said. “A lot could change in that time, Irene. You never know.”  
  
“Yeah, maybe,” Irene said, seeming determined to stay in her sulk. “But the party’s just half an hour away!” She moaned again. “Not enough is going to change in _that_ time.”  
Abby had to agree with her. She couldn’t see any real way for Irene to get out of going to that. Maybe if she was a better actor, Irene could fake being sick, coming down with a fever or something. But Abby didn’t think that Irene would be able to pull that off at _all_.  
  
And anyway, Abby was a bit curious to see just who the youngest Maria really was. She hadn’t gone to take a look at the Cruz’s estate to see the other girl of this marriage, so who knew just who Irene really was engaged to? And if she really was as bad as Irene was making her sound. Actually, Abby was sure that Maria wasn’t, that it was Irene’s dislike for her that was talking.  
  
“No,” Abby said. “But I’ll be done there with you,” and Abby sure did hope that she would be there all the time, and not get shuffled off to a back room to get pawed at by one of the men here. Frankly, everyone from Mr. Rose on down would probably like to get handy with her. “And so will your parents.”  
  
“They’re the ones who want me to get married,” Irene said, turning back to the major sticking point in her life. “It’s like _everyone_ wants to get me married. Even Rubio refused to drive me across the border to France to get away from this.”  
  
Abby couldn’t help herself. She snorted at that. It was the first she was hearing about it, but it really _was_ funny. Not that she should be laughing about it in front of Irene of course. And the young girl _had_ heard her and was giving her a _look_.  
  
“Ah, sorry about that, ma’am,” Abby said, drawing back a bit so that Irene could see how serious she was looking now. A talent for acting came in handy at times like these, like not showing how amusing it was to think of Irene fleeing the country. “But no, I don’t think much of this marriage, either. You’re still just so _young_.”  
  
“Will _you_ ,” Irene started to ask.  
  
“No, I won’t drive you across the border to France, either,” Abby said quickly. “Do you even speak French?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Irene said haughtily, crossing her arms underneath her chest. “ _And_ English.” She paused. “And I know a bit of Japanese from those shows Rosa likes to watch.”  
  
“That is impressive,” Abby said, “But I’m still not going to smuggle you across the border and leave you in a strange city.”  
  
“Ugh, I suppose,” Irene said, sitting back in her chair and looking pouty.   
  
Both Abby’s and Irene’s attentions were drawn away as a car pulled up outside of Irene’s bedroom. Both of them went over to the window and looked down at it. Irene sighed.  
  
“Papa’s lieutenants,” she said, looking down at the collection of men piling out of the car, looking rather stiff and uncomfortable in formal clothing. “This is going to be a bad party, Abby.”  
  
“I’ll be there to help you through it,” Abby said, resting her hand on Irene’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Trust me.”  
  
The look of gratitude that Irene sent her made a warm feeling unfurl inside of Abby’s chest. She smiled down at Irene’s head and patted her shoulder.  
  
“And now,” Abby said, “I think it’s time for you to go down and welcome the guests.”  
  
Irene wasn’t wild about that idea. That was pretty damn obvious. But she still nodded with a sigh. She ran her hands through her hair, making sure that it was still looking just as nice as it had been when Abby and her mother had finished combing and shampooing it. Then she squared her shoulders and headed for the door.  
  
Abby followed her. It wasn’t as if she was going to spend the entire party here in Irene’s bedroom. Though she supposed she should get in here sooner or later and plant some cameras. After all, sooner or later, Abby was going to need to do, well…  
  
Well, Abby didn’t need to think about that too hard at the moment. Instead, she headed for the back stairs so that she wouldn’t draw attention away from Irene as she greeted her father’s legbreakers, extortionists, hitmen and accountants.

*******

The party was pretty much what Abby had expected. This was her third time attending an underworld gala, although it was the first time she had done it as a maid instead of eyecandy. Well, she still was eyecandy, all the time with her body, and _especially_ in this outfit.  
  
Abby took a good long look around the dining room as she removed an empty tray and replaced it with a full one of stuffed mushrooms. It was tempting to sample another one of them, but if Abby wanted to do that, she should have done it in the privacy of the kitchen (which she had) rather than in front of all of the guests and self-described important people here.  
  
It was pretty easy to tell which group belonged to the Rose’s and which belonged to the Cruz’s. It seemed that the drive to unify the families underneath one married pair was an idea that the heads of the families had come up with, instead of something that had bubbled up from the lower ranks. There was a _lot_ of nasty looks going around and even the most socially inept person in history could have seen how there were small knots of formally dressed men standing around against opposite walls and talking to each other in low voices while directing glares at the other side. They were only mingling in two places. One was at the buffet, where there were some _truly_ frosty glares as the two groups of criminals competed over the food. That wasn’t helped by the fact that the ‘ball’ room was just the dining room with the tables shoved to one side, and the food set up on them. It could only be got at from one side, and there was some serious traffic congestion going on as the men (and the occasional beautiful woman wearing a fancy dress) tried to get food without acknowledging the existence of the other family.  
  
And the other was at the center of the room where Irene and Maria stood with their parents. There was some actual bon-homie going on over there, at least between the adults. The young Maria, in a dress just as fancy as Irene’s, was also being modestly charming, though mostly she looked bored.  
  
Irene, on the other hand, wasn’t being subtle at all in her glances at the large clock on one wall. Abby sighed and walked around the room, taking the long way around. That way, she could cross Irene’s field of view and send her a commiserating smile. Abby got a small smile back and Irene’s shoulders straightened slightly. Then Abby had to turn back to her own work.  
  
Which mostly involved trying not to get felt up or agreeing to show some of the guests around the house. The first one was obvious and it took no brains at all to see what the second was code for. Maybe if there was something at all for Abby to get out of it, she would have agreed to show off the Rose’s non-existent picture galley. As it was, Abby made sure that there was always something in her hands that she could use as an excuse for why she needed to leave and go do something else.  
  
And anyway, she was still picking up some gossip. Not a whole lot of it very interesting and she doubted that she could talk Balducci out of any more money unless she learned of a plan to murder the prime minister or something, but you never knew. It might be worth something sooner or later.  
  
“Damn florist,” one of the Cruz’s men was grumbling into his drink to a group of his friends. “Showing off their money like this.”  
“Right,” one of his friends agreed, his gaze lingering on Abby as she swept up a spill. “And not even sharing it with us.”  
  
“They’ve got some good taste, at least,” the third man of the group said, joining the other two in leering at Abby. “Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on some of it.”  
  
There was no good response to that beyond moving away and staying obviously busy. Abby didn’t need to be told to do that, though she _was_ grateful to Maria (the head maid, not any of the other Maria’s) for thinking to warn her about how to work at a party like this. Although she had phrased it more along the lines of not vanishing and leaving the rest of the staff to do all of the work, so Abby wasn’t _that_ grateful.  
  
As Abby stepped back into the main room, the broom and pan stowed away until they were needed again in five minutes, she saw Mrs. Rose looking at her and curling a finger, beckoning her over. Abby started over right away.  
  
Abby gave the older woman a look over as she approached. Mrs. Rose still looked good, even though she had to be in her mid-forties. A tad shorter than Abby, and she was letting her hair go gray naturally, though there were only a few small strands thus far. It was obvious where Irene got her looks from, as even with three and a half decades separating the two of them, there were still strong similarities, in hair color and the shape of the eyes.  
  
“Ah, Abby, isn’t it,” Mrs. Rose said coolly, looking Abby over. Her lips tightened. Obviously not a fan of her husband’s habit of hiring beautiful women and putting them in tight, revealing dresses. Who could possibly have guessed? “I’d like you to watch over Irene and Maria as they walk around the gardens.”  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” Abby said with a small bow.  
  
Abby sneaked a glance down at the two children. Irene had perked up a bit. Possibly over the thought that going outside with just two people would allow her to get lost and sneak back up to her room. Maria, though, in her beautiful yellow dress, looked quite a bit more interested.  
  
Even though she was the adult, it wouldn’t be right to say that Abby led the two girls outside. Instead, Maria took the lead, forging ahead while Irene stayed back with Abby. As soon as they were outside of the ball room, Irene sighed heavily and outright glared at Maria’s back as the other girl hauled a door open, loudly grunting as she strained to get the heavy wooden door swinging.  
  
“As if we need a chaperone,” Irene muttered as the two of them stepped outside into the evening air. It was nice and refreshing, feeling _very_ nice after the stuffy room and the blazing sun. “I’m not going to try and kiss her or something.”  
  
“I’m sure your mother doesn’t want any untoward actions happening between you two,” Abby said calmly. “Kissing or kicking.”  
  
Irene giggled at that and the sound made Maria perk up and circle back. Her yellow dress stood out brightly in the slowly darkening gardens and her brilliant smile even more so.  
  
“Isn’t this place lovely, Irene?” Maria asked, stopping quite close to her. “my house and your gardens, wouldn’t they be a wonderful match?”  
  
Irene just stared at Maria, hostility evident in her eyes. Really, she was one step from crossing her arms in front of her chest and tapping her foot as she glared at the other girl. For a moment, Abby wondered if she should do anything, or if Irene would manage to sink the marriage all on her own.  
  
But a glance at Maria, at the smile on her face and the youthful air surrounding her, tugged on Abby’s heartstrings too much for her to be able to manage that. And anyway, who knew just what Irene would have to do to make the family heads call it off. Abby wasn’t going to let Irene strangle Maria, which just might be the only way to do it, if the undisguised hostility from the lower ranks hadn’t managed it yet.  
  
“I haven’t seen your home,” Abby said hastily as Irene opened her mouth to say something that would certainly not be nearly as diplomatic. “Is it as nice as you make it sound?”  
  
“It’s even better,” Maria said proudly, waving a hand at the wall and presumably beyond it to wherever her home was. “Daddy bought me a horse last year and get to ride it all over the place.”  
  
“And how many people did he kill to get that money?” Irene muttered underneath her breath. Aby shot her a look, but Irene was looking off to the side (completely intentionally, Abby was sure) and missed it.  
  
Maria either didn’t hear it or pretended not to. Instead, she started walking deeper into the garden, almost skipping as she danced along the stone path.  
  
“Isn’t it so lovely out here?” Maria asked, twirling around and giving another brilliant smile at Irene. “Can’t you just see the two of us, sitting on that bench and watching the fish swimming in the pond?” Her finger whipped around as she pointed out both features.  
  
“I can,” Irene said with a groan. “I really, really can.” The look on her face suggested that she had gotten bad news from the doctor and the taxman at the same time.  
  
“Now, Maria,” Abby cut in. Maria seemed to be happy and good natured, but she couldn’t be _oblivious_ and sooner or later, she was going to catch on to what Irene was saying. And who knew what would happen then? “Are you looking forward to your marriage?”  
  
“Oh, yes,” Maria said happily, skipping back towards them and grabbing Irene’s hand. Irene shot Abby a betrayed look and Abby shrugged apologetically. “It’s so _romantic_ , isn’t it? The two of us,” she pulled Irene closer to her, almost hugging the other preteen, “bringing our families together and restoring peace. It’s just like Romeo and Juliet, except happier!”  
  
“And then they use that peace to go take over the town,” Irene said, trying to get her arm out of Maria’s surprisingly solid grip. “And I’m not going to swallow poison for you or anything.”  
  
“You won’t need to, you won’t need to,” Maria said happily. She turned her attention to Abby. “You’ll be there too, right… Annie?”  
  
“Abby,” Abby corrected her. “And who can say? Six years is still a long way away.”  
  
“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Maria said. “That just gives Irene and I a lot more time to become a good of friends as we can be!” She wrapped Irene in an one-armed hug, while the other girl looked desperate to get out of the embrace. “So by the time the ceremony actually happens, it will be just like we’ve been married already!”  
Irene looked like death would be a preferable option to that. Abby sighed, though only inwardly. What a sight. What a sight. And now she was going to feel guilty over what she was going to eventually do, picturing Maria’s face when she learned that Irene had cheated on her with a maid. Well, if Abby let herself think about all the people she had made sad, even heartbroken, over the years, even for the people she had killed who had deserved to die, who still somehow had people loving them, then she’d just break down in an instant. Much better to just not think about it.  
  
“Irene,” Abby said in an attempt to get the topic away from marriage, “have you and Maria met much before?”  
  
“Yes,” Irene said, her tone of voice saying everything needed about how those meetings had gone. “We’ve met a _lot_. There’s a party every two weeks or something.”  
  
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Maria asked, giving her dress a small twirl as she hopped up onto the rocks lining the garden bed. “There’s parties and walks together and we even went riding once!” She covered her mouth as she giggled. “The horse didn’t like Irene, though, and threw her off.”  
  
Abby’s eyes went wide as she looked down at Irene. She hadn’t heard about _that_. But Irene’s scowl and blush said that it really had happened. Abby reached down to give Irene’s shoulder a comforting pat.  
  
“If I hadn’t been wearing that helmet,” Irene muttered, reaching up to rub her head. “Ow.”  
  
“But mostly it’s been a lot less…” Maria was about to say something that Abby would have bet was ‘funny’ but thought better. “Eventful. But I’ve loved it all just the same.”  
  
Irene didn’t verbally reply to that. Instead, she looked off to the side, crossing her arms underneath her chest and pouting cutely. And it _was_ a very cute pout, much like everything that Irene did.  
  
Abby heard some voices coming from behind her. She turned her head and saw that a dozen or so women had appeared on the balcony overlooking the garden. They were all women she had seen at the party, and she could pick out Mrs. Rose and Mrs. Cruz up there. So, the kids were gone from the dining room, and the wives and/or armcandy were gone as well. Just leaving the men, who actually ran things in this _very_ traditional setup.  
  
Abby wondered what they were talking about or planning. Because they were _obviously_ planning something. But she couldn’t abandon Irene and Maria to go eavesdrop, especially not with both of their mothers looking down at her as she escorted their daughters. Oh well, she’d just have to wait and wonder. And make sure that Irene especially didn’t embarrass herself.  
  
Which might take some doing, as Irene’s mood obviously and steadily worsened. At least that shouldn’t be obvious to anyone but Abby and Maria. And possibly not even Maria, since she still seemed to be head over heels at the thought of being married to Irene. Abby racked her mind for some way to cheer Irene up. Sugar would be an obvious solution, though that would mean going back inside, which _probably_ wouldn’t be a good idea right now.  
  
Putting on a show for Irene would be another idea, bending over and shaking her breasts or ass. But Abby certainly wasn’t going to do that in front of anyone else, especially a crowd of a dozen or so women. And, of course, she would feel _super_ slimy over doing that in the first place, given how young Irene was.  
  
Finally, an idea came to Abby. She smiled and rested a hand on Irene’s shoulder, reaching out to do the same to Maria as well. Both of the preteens looked up at her, their heads tilted to the side.  
  
“Alright, girls,” Abby said, all good cheer and happiness, beyond even what Maria’s usual level of energy seemed to be. “Why don’t you come with me and we can go do something fun.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Maria said quickly, hoping down from the garden border and dusting herself off. “What is it?”  
  
“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Abby said, whisking the two of them away. She glanced down at Irene, glad to see that there was a look of curiosity there, instead of just sullenness.  
  
Abby led them around the corner of the house, out of sight from the balcony. She sighed in relief at that. She wasn’t planning to do anything _bad_ or even questionable, but it would still be nice to be out from underneath the gaze of a small crowd that included a woman who could fire her and ruin the whole point of this job.  
  
“Normally, I’d suggest hide and seek,” Abby said, looking down at the two of them. Irene turned a surprisingly good skeptical gaze onto her. “But I wouldn’t want to get those dresses of yours dirty, would I?” Especially because Abby would be the one who ended up cleaning Irene’s dress, and if that thing could go into the laundry machine, Abby was a frog. “So instead, I’ll tell you two a story about a princess and a swordsman.”  
  
“I love stories,” Maria said, nodding quickly and reaching down to take Irene’s hand. “Do you like stories, Irene?”  
  
“I guess?” Irene said, shrugging a bit and looking up at Abby. “What’s the story about?”  
  
“You’ll have to wait and listen,” Abby said a touch chidingly as she looked around for the nearest bench.  
  
That would just need a spot of cleaning. And it was in the perfect spot, right next to an artificial stream, so the gurgling water would nicely undercut what she was saying. Irene on the right of her, Maria on the left of her, it would be perfect. Now if only she could remember the story she had read once three years ago well enough to share it with others.  
  
Since they were out of sight of the balcony, Abby felt safe in bending over at the waist as she faced away from Irene. She heard a small intake of breath and knew that it had worked. And with any luck, Irene would be feeling a lot better now, not quite so gloomy and down in the dumps. As for Maria? Abby was willing to bet that she didn’t understand what Abby had just done anyway.  
  
A few quick swipes of her hand and the leaves and such were off of the bench and on the ground. She sat down on it, drawing the kids down with her. It was a small bench, and even though neither Irene or Maria were very large (even for preteens) Abby _was_. It was a very tight fit and Abby had to lift her arms and rest them on Irene’s and Maria’s shoulders to give herself a bit of room.  
  
“Now, this story took place a long time ago, down south,” Abby said, “back in 1783.”  
  
As she started going over the story, she looked down at the girls. Mostly at Irene, for obvious reasons. Abby didn’t think that Irene was paying _that_ close attention to what Abby was saying. But, then again, she had something else on her mind that was distracting her.  
  
With the way the three of them were positioned, Irene’s face was right next to Abby’s chest. She could even look down and see Abby’s cleavage, her maid uniform pushed up and prominent. And she was obviously enjoying the sight. Quite a bit, given how her hands were refusing to leave her lap and reveal anything.  
  
Maria, on the other hand, was simply enjoying the story, just as a story. She was looking upwards at Abby’s face and didn’t seem to notice a thing about her… fiancé? Fiancée? Abby really wasn’t certain what the proper terminology here was. Not that it really mattered, since if Abby had her way, the marriage would never even take place.  
  
Abby’s hand moved around slightly on Irene’s shoulder as she shared the story. She debated moving it down a bit and properly teasing Irene. But no, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Irene wouldn’t know how to handle that sort of thing and was certain to make a big enough fuss that Maria would be clued into things. And as happy and energetic as Maria was, Abby didn’t think she would be _terribly_ happy to see that her betrothed was getting felt up by the hired help.  
  
Well, at least Irene’s mood was improving. And that was something to be glad over, even if a part of Abby wondered if she should instead have left Maria and Irene to their own devices, to drive even more of a wedge in between the two and sour Irene further on the prospects of marriage. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do that to the young girl.  
  
That was probably a real weakness when it came to what she was being hired to do, come to think of it.

*******

Abby smiled to herself as she entered Irene’s room. That girl really _did_ spend a lot of time in here, didn’t she? Abby was actually a tad concerned about it, wondering if Irene wouldn’t be happier getting out in the sun and spending more time with her friends. Well, there were limits to what Abby could convince Irene to do.  
  
And at least she could cheer Irene up, in her own special way. A way that nobody else would probably be willing to do.  
  
“Good morning, Irene,” Abby said, opening the door and stepping through. “How are you doing this fine morning?”  
  
“Ugh,” Irene said, still in bed and with a pillow pulled over her head. “It’s too early for this, Abby.”  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, ma’am,” Abby said briskly, putting the breakfast tray on the table next to Irene’s bed and striding over to the windows. “Everyone else in the house is already wide awake and active. You should do the same.”  
  
That was a bit of a lie, of course. Abby had only seen the other servants getting ready for the day, and Irene’s mother, sitting at the breakfast table and moaning to herself about not combining whisky and bourbon together ever again. But Irene didn’t need to know that. All she needed to know was that it was time for her to get up and going before the entire day wasted away. Or at least before the town bells rang out seven thirty, which they would be doing any minute now.  
  
Abby walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. Irene moaned as she did so and Abby turned around, fighting hard to suppress a grin. One of Irene’s eyes had appeared and was glaring at her. Or possibly squinting as the morning sun fell on her face. Either way, it had all of the threat and ferocity of a tired kitten.  
  
“Your breakfast is over on the table,” Abby said. “And what would you like to wear this morning, ma’am?”  
  
There was no response for a second as Abby walked over to the dressers. She turned her head to look at Irene. Irene was slowly sitting up, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she swayed back and forth. Abby fought down _another_ smile at the expression on her face. Ah, the joys of being a morning person when surrounded by people who weren’t. That always gave Abby a smug sense of superiority, just like being clearheaded when next to someone with a hangover.  
  
“I’m going shopping with Mama today,” Irene eventually said, slowly lifting the tray and putting it on her lap. “Something I can move around in.”  
  
“Of course,” Abby said, pulling open some dresser drawers and looking over the various options inside. “It’s going to be hot out today, so something light, I think. And colorful, to bring out your eyes.”  
  
“You think,” Irene started to say before breaking off in a yawn, “I have good eyes?”  
  
“I think every part of you is very beautiful,” Abby said, bending over at the waist once again. She could _feel_ the skirt climbing up her legs, baring more and more of her thighs. “Your parents are very lucky to have such a beautiful daughter to call their own.”  
  
Abby didn’t actually need to look over her shoulder to see the blush that was appearing on Irene’s face. And it really was a _cute_ blush, she knew.  
  
“You look pretty, too, Abby,” Irene said shyly.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” Abby said, straightening up with a few pieces of clothing for Irene to look over. “It’s very kind of you to say so.”  
  
She walked over to the bed to present them to Irene. The young girl was busy eating, wolfing down the fresh fruit and granola that the cook had made for her. She still stopped chewing as Abby leaned forward, showing off her cleavage nicely as she laid her choices out on the bed for Irene to look over.  
  
“I think you’ll look very nice in any of these, ma’am,” Abby said, fiddling with the clothes a bit as an excuse to stay bent over a little while longer. Just to give Irene a bit more time to stare down her cleavage and see her large breasts, pressed together and pressed up for presentation. “Or would you like something a bit sportier?”  
  
“No,” Irene said through a mouthful of blueberries. She swallowed and tried again. “No, these all look great, Abby.” She gave Abby a smile and even managed to lift her gaze enough to look Abby in the face instead of elsewhere. “And what will you be doing today?”  
  
“Oh, cleaning up still,” Abby said, waving her hand around. “That was quite the party last night. There’s still a lot of work left to do. Vacuuming, restocking, all of that sort of thing.”  
  
“I wish you could come with us to Milan,” Irene said with a sigh. “That would be nice.”  
  
“Even in a big city like that,” Abby said dryly, “I think that wearing this around the city streets would attract some comment.”  
  
Irene’s eyes darted down to Abby’s body again. Abby showed herself off, though only subtly. Not that she needed to do a whole lot _to_ show herself off, with how good she looked and how slutty her maid outfit was. The high heels, the stockings, the short skirt, the deep cleavage, the bare arms, there was a lot to get the motor running for anyone who was attracted to women.  
  
Abby was about ninety percent certain that Irene was thinking that maybe Abby could just go naked. Irene certainly opened her mouth to say _something_ before cutting herself off with a deep, vivid blush that showed no signs of dying down anytime soon. Abby was so, _so_ tempted to tease her some more about that. But not when Irene and her mother were leaving in an hour or so for an all day shopping trip.  
  
Irene finished her breakfast and stretched, before properly looking over the outfits that Abby had presented. Abby _did_ hope that she had picked out some that Irene would like. Of course, if she hadn’t managed even a single one, that would raise the question of why they were in Irene’s closet in the first place.  
  
“That one,” Irene said, pointing at a yellow and black sun dress. “Thanks for getting them out, Abby. The other maids _never_ bothered to do stuff like this, you know?”  
  
“Really?” Abby neutrally replied, picking up the unchosen clothes and folding them. “Well, I want to make you as happy as I can for as long as I can, Irene.”  
  
Abby looked at her as she said that and caught the blush that spread across Irene’s face. The young girl turned her head to the side and shook it back and forth. And kept on blushing. It was a real struggle for Abby to keep a smile off of her face as well.  
  
“I’m going to go take a shower,” Irene said. “Come with me.” Then she paused, her eyes getting wide as she slapped her hands over her mouth. “Gah, ah, no, no, that’s not what I meant!” Irene said, raising her voice and shaking her hands and her head. “I just meant, ah, that, you, I’m still feeling sleepy and want some help getting to the bathroom! That’s all.”  
  
It was an even greater struggle now for Abby to keep her expression composed. The mask threatened to slip a time or two, but, in the end, Abby managed to just nod and glide over to the bed. She extended an arm for Irene to take.  
  
Still blushing up a storm and staring straight ahead, Irene took it. She slid into her slippers and started for the bathroom, not showing any _actual_ signs of being unsteady on her feet. Abby chose not to comment on that, though, and just helped her along, the urge to laugh her head off slowly dying down.  
  
Oh, this was too amusing. This was far too amusing. Abby wondered just how much longer it would be before Irene was ready to take the next step and do something beyond blushing up a storm as her tongue was more honest than her brain was.  
  
And just what that step would fully entail doing.

*******

Just before stepping into the room, Abby had undone some of her top, exposing even more of her cleavage than she normally did. And she knew that Irene noticed soon after she had entered. The guilty little gasp and the color spreading across Irene’s pale cheeks was proof of that. Not that Abby had given any sign that she had noticed, of course. That would just spoil the entire attempt.  
  
The two of them exchanged the usual questions about how well everything was with each of them and how nice the weather was. And all the while, Irene’s eyes kept on going back down to Abby’s chest. Abby didn’t say as much, but it _was_ very obvious that Irene was starting to get an erection. The skirt she was wearing looked nice and flattered her legs, but it _was_ tight enough that Irene’s penis was becoming more and more obvious as she kept on looking at Abby.  
  
Abby was theoretically cleaning the room, using a feather duster to rub down the various flat surfaces of the room. And even in a normal day, that still involved a lot of talking to Irene as she looked for a distraction from her homework. Today, Abby made sure that she was doing a lot more sexualized cleaning than normal. There was a great deal of bending at the waist and spreading her legs and letting Irene get a good view at Abby from every possible angle. Front, back and sides.  
  
Irene wasn’t nearly as subtle at stealing glances at Abby as some of the men Abby had meant had been. Her eyes kept on drifting over to her, before _zipping_ back to her homework whenever Abby turned her head towards her. And she still hadn’t figured out that there were enough reflective surfaces in her room that even when Abby was facing away from her, she could still see what the little girl was doing. And where she was looking.  
  
After ten minutes or so, Abby decided that things had gone on for long enough. Irene was about as worked up as she could get form just stealing glances at Abby and now it was time for something more _meaningful_. Probably not going all the way, but at least it should open Irene up for some more in the future.  
  
“Miss Irene,” Abby said, straightening up and turning around to look at the young girl. Irene squeaked and a blush started to spread across her face. “Is something the matter?”  
  
“No!” Irene squeaked, shaking her head as her cheeks went red. “Nothing at all.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Abby asked, taking a few long steps towards Irene and leaning forward. She rested her hand on Irene’s forehead. “Are you coming down with a fever or something?”  
  
From this position, Irene didn’t have a _choice_ but to stare right into Abby’s cleavage. And she was obviously doing so, swallowing deeply as she looked at the large, pale mounds pressed together inside of Abby’s maid uniform.  
  
“No, no, I’m fine!” Irene squeaked, not able to tear her eyes away from what she was looking at.  
  
The blush had started to spread to Irene’s forehead by now. Her fingers were fiddling with anything in reach. An eraser, her pen, the bottom of her blouse, anything that would let her work out some of the nervous energy that was so obviously flooding her body. And Abby noticed that she was working hard to keep her hands in front of her crotch to try and hide the rather decent erection that was there.  
  
“Miss Irene, please don’t lie to me,” Abby said chidingly. “It’s obvious that you’re looking at _something_.” She rubbed her head back and forth along Irene’s forehead, coming away with quite a bit of sweat. “Do you want to tell me what it is?”  
  
Irene opened and closed her mouth, her cheeks turning an impossibly bright red. Abby didn’t think that she had _ever_ seen someone looking so flushed without also dying of a rather unpleasant disease. And she was still staring right into Abby’s cleavage.  
  
After a while, it became obvious that Irene wasn’t going to actually say anything. So that would just mean that Abby would need to take the lead. Well, that was still something she could do.  
  
“Are you looking at my breasts, Miss Irene?” Abby said, her voice still calm and soothing, like she was coaxing a wild animal into her palm.  
  
Irene hesitated and then nodded, her head bobbing up and down. Abby nodded in turn and leaned forward just a bit, letting Irene get a better look at the pair of large breasts that had so entranced her.  
  
“Do you like them?” Abby asked, running her other hand lightly down Irene’s body and pressing her fingers against Irene’s wrist. “Do you like how big and soft they are?”  
  
Irene nodded again, her eyes as wide as saucers. Abby kept on slowly going, not wanting to startle Irene and sending her fleeing in a panic.  
  
“Would you like to touch them?” Abby asked.  
  
That got a pretty vivid reaction. Irene gasped, her gaze shooting up to look at Abby’s face. Abby smiled down at her. She was actually feeling a touch aroused herself. Not a lot, but there was still something growing inside of her. She just couldn’t tell if it was arousal from what she was doing, or who she was doing it with.  
  
Abby gently lifted Irene’s hand up and placed it on her chest. On the underside of her breast, where it was still covered by her uniform. There was no need to pile on too much stimulation at once and panic the poor girl.  
  
“They’re really big,” Irene said softly, lightly pressing upwards with just the tips of her fingers.  
  
“Yes, they are,” Abby said, nodding in acknowledgment as she looked down at her chest. “There aren’t many women with larger breasts.”  
  
“Do you think mine will be this large?” Irene asked, her voice small and quiet and nervous.  
  
“It’s hard to say,” Abby said with a shrug. “Not if you take after your mother, but I’ve known plenty of women who didn’t.” She smiled and rubbed the top of Irene’s head, her fingers gliding through the dark yellow strands. “And it _can_ be inconvenient to have such large breasts. Just bra shopping, for one!”  
  
Irene nodded at that. Abby had done enough of Irene’s laundry to know that she had started wearing training bras. Not that she had a _lot_ of use for that kind of thing, Abby thought, with a quick glance down at Irene’s chest. Well, she’d have a better idea of what she’d need in a year or two.  
  
Irene was still touching, very lightly touching, Abby’s chest. There was a wild look in her eyes, one that Abby hadn’t seen before. And despite that, she still wasn’t going hog-wild. She was still holding herself back, looking nervous and worried as she kept on touching Abby’s covered breasts. As if at any minute the door would open or she would do something that would make Abby yell at her.  
  
 _That_ wasn’t going to happen, obviously. Or, at least, Irene would really have to go all out on acting like an unrestrained pervert before Abby would have to step back and make things calm down.  
  
And Irene simply wasn’t going to be doing something like that. Instead, her hand was moving upwards a bit, slowly and gingerly sliding up the black and white fabric of Abby’s uniform until she touched Abby’s bare skin. She gasped and that and pulled her hand away, her face a scarlet inferno.  
  
“It’s alright, Miss Irene,” Abby said. “You can touch them if you want to.” She winced a bit. “But if you want to move this to your bed instead of here, I would be completely in favor of that,” she added quickly. There was being in shape and then there was squatting in this position for ten minutes.  
  
“I, I,” Irene said, her slim shoulders rising and falling as she blinked and looked off to the side. “I, yes, okay, Abby.” Her words came out so quickly they almost tumbled over each other as she tried to get her head on straight. It was _really_ cute.  
  
Abby took a few steps back and sat down on Irene’s bed. For the first time, she was glad of how large it was. That way, there was plenty of room for the two of them to do whatever they ended up doing together.  
  
Irene stared at her for a moment, and Abby wondered if she should do some posing, to show off her body even more and entice Irene to come and join her. She decided not to. She didn’t want to come on so strongly that when Irene thought things over later, she would start to get suspicious of what Abby had been doing.  
  
Instead, she just gave Irene a big, bright, genuine smile. And that was enough to do the trick. Swallowing heavily, Irene stood up and tottered over to Abby, sitting down right next to her on the bed, pressed up close. It was pretty nice and for a minute, Abby had to suppress the urge to just wrap an arm around Irene and hold her close as the two of them looked out the window at the sunbaked walls of the town below them.  
  
Abby was tall enough, and Irene was short enough, that when she turned her head, the young girl was looking straight into Abby’s cleavage. That had quite the obvious effect on the girl and Abby could _hear_ her swallowing.  
  
Abby glanced down at Irene’s crotch. Her dick was rather obvious, just poking up out of her skirt and forming a tent. Abby didn’t plan to do anything with it, but it _was_ kind of nice to know that Irene was getting so turned on by this.  
  
“Would you like me to pull my top down?” Abby asked gently, letting her fingers brush along the hem of her blouse, pressing lightly against her cleavage.  
  
“Gah, that,” Irene said, before shaking her head and lifting her own hands. “I can do that.”  
  
Abby smiled and let her hands come back down to her lap. Irene took some quick, deep breaths before completing the journey and pressing her hands against Abby’s large breasts. She was firmer than she had been last time, and actually used some pressure. Abby felt a shiver run through her.  
  
Irene started to rub Abby’s breasts, moving her hands back and forth. She was still only occasionally rising up to touch the bare flesh, but Abby didn’t hurry her. She could be patient and wait for Irene to be ready in her own time.  
  
And, frankly, it was _nice_ to be spending time with someone who was careful and hesitant and didn’t want to hurt Abby. Most of the men she ended up seducing in her work were the exact opposite of that. They were rough and demanding and knew just what they wanted and how to get it. Taking things slow and steady would never have occurred to them. Not like Irene, who would probably panic if Abby even suggested that they both take their clothes off.  
  
Abby was starting to get aroused form what was happening to her. There were some _wonderful_ tingles running through her body, making her feel all nice and warm inside. Her nipples were slowly starting to get stiff and there was a heat rising inside of her core. She wasn’t _wet_ , not yet, but she wouldn’t at all be surprised if she was before this was over.  
  
Irene had managed to work up the nerve to get a proper handful of Abby’s breasts. Her face was an _adorable_ shade of red, something that just made Abby want to hold her close and never, ever let go. As it was, she forced herself to remain calm and let Irene have complete control over what was happening.  
  
“They’re so soft,” Irene said, rubbing Abby’s cleavage, her small, delicate fingers pressing against the large globes. “And really warm.”  
  
“Yes, they are,” Abby said, smiling. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them, Miss Irene.”  
  
Irene nodded. Her dick was as hard as a rock, and Abby wondered if she would cum just by playing with Abby’s breasts. And if Irene even knew how to masturbate yet, or if that was a mystery she hadn’t found out about herself yet. Well, maybe that could be something Abby would introduce _next_ session.  
  
Irene took a deep breath and grabbed Abby’s bodice. She gently pulled it down and her eyes got _really_ big when Abby’s boobs popped out, one after another. Her mouth fell open as she realized just how large the new maid’s chest really was. It was as cute as everything else she did, and Abby had to keep herself from giggling.  
  
“So big,” Irene said, her voice soft and small. She reached up and traced her fingertips along it. “So soft.”  
  
“And you can do whatever you like to them,” Abby said, smiling. “I’ll let you know if anything feels bad.”  
  
Irene nodded. She looked up at Abby’s face. There was an adorable mix of emotions on her face, as she considered all kinds of things, shifting back and forth between lust and nervousness excitement and plenty of other ideas.  
  
“How are you feeling, Abby?” Irene asked, her high-pitched voice full of concern.  
  
“I’m feeling wonderful,” Abby said, telling the complete and utter truth. “You are really making me feel good, Miss Irene.” She grabbed Irene’s hand and lifted it, pressing her palm against Abby’s nipple. “See how hard this is? If I wasn’t enjoying this, it wouldn’t be like this.”  
  
Irene nodded, her face full of guilty excitement. Her fingers curled slightly, pressing against Abby’s breast. That felt nice. That felt very nice indeed, and Abby sighed as she felt the young girl pressing against her.  
  
Irene lifted her other hand and grabbed Abby’s other breast. Abby sighed in satisfaction, feeling the small, delicate hands starting to work on her chest. It really _did_ feel good, and Irene’s gentleness was wonderful to feel compared to what Abby normally went through.  
  
Irene’s head was coming closer and closer to Abby’s chest, until she was almost pressed right up against it. That sparked another idea in Abby’s mind.  
  
“And if you want to do more than just touch, that is all right with me, ma’am,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to deny your curiosity. “  
  
Irene looked up at her as Abby licked her lips. It wasn’t a _sensual_ gesture or anything. Just quickly darting her tongue out to press against lips before bringing it back in. But Abby could still tell that the seed had been planted in Irene’s mind.  
  
She didn’t take Irene up on it immediately, but she still got closer to Abby’s chest as she kept on touching Abby’s breasts. Her hands were getting bolder in their wandering now, moving up and down and back and forth, covering more and more of Abby’s large chest and being firmer with what they _were_ touching. It was getting more and more exciting for Abby as well and she shifted back and forth a bit, feeling the arousal building inside of her. Although the arousal _she_ was feeling was nothing compared to what Irene was so obviously going through.  
  
Abby rested one hand behind her to let her lean back, so that Irene could get better access to her breasts. She shivered as Irene looked over them. Part of her was still thinking about how _weird_ and perverted this all was. How young Irene was, though the fact that she was a _she_ was just unusual instead of weird. But with how good Abby was feeling, it was more and more difficult to string together a logical rebuttal of what she was feeling and how she should stop before she went any further with the young girl.  
  
“They’re really fun to paly with,” Irene said, sounding as if she had just received some divine revelation. She gently squeezed down. “Really, really fun.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear that,” Abby said, barely able to stifle a moan. “I’m really glad to hear that, Miss Irene.” She closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. She only realized what that would mean for how her chest would move after Irene gasped. “And I’m glad that you’re enjoying yourself.”  
  
Irene vigorously nodded. Abby could see that from time to time, her hands were straying down to her crotch, but they never stayed there for long. Maybe Abby really _would_ need to teach the young girl how to masturbate. And what an _experience_ that would be. Not something that she had done before.  
  
Irene’s head was so close to Abby’s breasts by now that the older woman could feel every puff of air against them and even Irene drawing air in to breathe. It was kind of distracting, actually. Almost ticklish, really. Abby shivered but didn’t say anything, and focused on making sure that Irene had everything she could want. At least when it came to Abby’s chest.  
  
Abby was getting more and more worked up. She forced herself to stay calm, but it _was_ difficult. She wanted to just reach out and grab Irene and help the young girl take care of the arousal that they were both so obviously feeling. Although that would obviously be a _terrible_ idea. She knew Irene and knew that pushing her that hard and fast would be a mistake, one that would send Irene crumbling.  
  
Instead, she let Irene take things at her own pace. A pace that _was_ increasing as Irene got more and more comfortable with Abby’s breasts, how they felt underneath her hands, even what kind of sounds Abby might make as they got touched.  
  
“I,” Irene blushed a slightly darker shade of red than she was already blushing, “When I touch my own breasts,” she shifted from side to side in embarrassment, “it doesn’t feel anything like this, Abby.” She looked up at the older woman. “Not like how you’re obviously feeling.”  
  
“You’re still growing,” Abby said, her own voice kind of smokey as she got more and more turned on. “In two years, maybe three, you’ll find out just how nice it can be to play with breasts.”  
  
Irene nodded. Then she looked down at Abby’s boobs. She took a deep breath (and Abby got to feel warm air puffing over her skin) and then leaned forward. She opened her mouth and Abby wasn’t quite able to stop herself from gasping as she realized what was about to happen.  
  
Sure enough, Irene wrapped her mouth around Abby’s nipple. It felt _nice_ , especially since she didn’t apply any pressure to the stiff nub whatsoever. Instead, she just sucked on it, sending some really _wonderful_ sensations racing through Abby’s body.  
  
Abby’s fingers curled up in the bedsheets behind her as she breathed in and out. That felt good. That felt very, _very_ good and her thighs tensed up. If Abby hadn’t kept such firm control over herself, she would have wrapped her legs around Irene’s body, holding her in close and keeping her right where she was, sucking and taking care of Abby’s chest.  
  
“N-no matter how hard you suck,” Abby said, her voice wavering a bit, “milk isn’t going to come out of there, you know?”  
“I know that,” Irene said, sounding a bit offended as she looked up at Abby. “But it still feels good, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Abby said, nodding in _full_ agreement. “It feels very good.” She smiled at Irene and ran a hand down her cheek. “Thank you for doing it, Irene.”  
  
That made Irene cutely blush again and look off to the side, muttering something indistinct. What a cute girl she was. Abby shook her head back and forth and let Irene get back to business. After all, who could possibly stop her from doing something that was feeling this good?  
  
Irene didn’t just suck on Abby’s nipple. She outright licked Abby’s breast, her small, pink tongue sticking out to run back and forth along Abby’s entire, substantial chest. That felt good and Abby ended up giggling at the light sensation. And it was also very arousing as Irene’s hands kept on touching Abby. Never leaving her breasts, even though some pressure against her pussy might feel _really_ good right about now.  
  
‘That’s right,” Abby said, trying to keep her voice level and not moaning like she so badly wanted to. “Doesn’t that feel nice, Irene?” She shivered, her cheeks turning red as she felt sweat standing out along her brow. “And you’re making me feel good as well.”  
  
“Really?” Irene asked, popping her mouth off of Abby’s nipple, complete with a small popping sound. “I am?” he gave Abby a _brilliant_ smile, one that conjured up a warm swell of emotions inside of her. “I’m glad. It’s pretty fun to do.”  
  
Abby nodded. Oh, she could believe that. She didn’t get to have sex with many women in the line of duty, but she had still snuggled up to some sizeable bosoms on her day. And taking care of those big, soft, tender breasts had always been quite fun, assuming Abby was getting even the slightest amount of enjoyment out of it at all.  
  
Irene returned to what she was doing. And she was doing _wonders_ to Abby’s body. The older woman’s jaw was having difficulty staying closed as she panted for breath, her fingers clenching and then relaxing as she felt the small hands stroking her and the lips sucking and kissing her. She was getting _very_ wet, this foreplay just doing amazing, completely amazing things to her.  
  
And it was obvious how much Irene was enjoying herself as well. With the lust fogging her brain, Abby was terribly tempted to reach down and wrap a hand around Irene’s cock, the shaft sticking out and forming a large tent in her skirt. She was barely able to stop herself, make herself remember that this was all very, _very_ new to Irene and that Abby shouldn’t push her too hard or too quickly. Among several other ethical reasons, Abby didn’t even have a camera to take pictures with. She hadn’t thought she would need one this early.  
  
Abby’s hand was shaking a bit as she stroked the back of Irene’s head, her fingers trailing through the loose strands of hair and petting the long tails that hung off of her skull. She didn’t _think_ she was pushing Irene further into her chest, but it was hard to say, with how she was feeling.  
  
Abby couldn’t recall the last time she had been this turned on without any sign of release coming. She was _sure_ she wasn’t capable of orgasming just from getting her boobs played with. And she wasn’t going to masturbate in front of Irene, either. Next session, _maybe_.   
  
She wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. Her shift still had another hour and a half left to go, ninety minutes where she would be pent up, dealing with all of this lust and with absolutely _nothing_ she could do to relieve it. Not unless she wanted to step into a bathroom, lift her skirt and masturbate. Which she just might have to do, if she was going to be this turned on.  
  
Irene’s hands were still wandering all over Abby’s chest. And it was still feeling wonderful. Of course, Irene’s hands were so small and Abby’s chest was so large that there was _plenty_ of room for her to touch her maid’s chest. And she wasn’t getting tired of it, it seemed. She was still touching and sucking and kissing and even licking from time to time. It felt _good_.  
  
“Oh, Irene,” Abby moaned, sounding far more like a slut than a maid. “You’re making me feel so good.” She shakily smiled, suppressing the urge to lean down and kiss the young girl. “Thank you.”  
  
Abby was soaking wet by now, arousal running out of her in a flood. It was a good thing that as perverted as whoever had designed these outfits had been, he (and it had to have been a he) hadn’t been so perverted that he had removed panties from it. Even so, they were still so soaked that Abby could feel her underwear clinging to her skin.  
  
As for her nipples, they were very stiff. And covered with saliva from Irene’s constant attention. Abby’s entire chest was rising and falling quite a bit, as she focused on her breathing. The only parts of her that stayed still were whatever Irene was touching, and her fingers were just so small that she couldn’t keep a lot of Abby’s large breasts still.  
  
Irene was starting to make some strange little noises. Abby glanced down at her and saw that her cheeks were a dark red and that her eyes were glazed. And her hips were jerking back and forth, her erection even more obvious than it had been before. Abby thought that maybe five seconds of pressure would be all that it would take to make the young girl cum. And it wouldn’t even have to be Abby’s hand or anything. Just her thigh, still covered by her maid uniform, would probably do the trick and push Irene over the edge.  
  
Into her very first orgasm? That was possible. That was quite possible. And Abby thought that if she saw Irene cum in front of her, then she wouldn’t be able to hold herself back either and that her own orgasm would quickly follow. Both of them were just so _worked up_ , so full of lust.  
  
Abby was finding it more and more difficult to think straight as she kept on feeling the arousal building and building inside of her. How was Irene this good at what she was doing? It was crystal clear that Irene had never done this before with anyone, and she was _still_ making Abby just _melt_ around her lips and fingers. The wonders of repeated stimulation, Abby supposed.  
  
Irene’s fingers were digging into Abby’s breasts as much as they could, really squeezing down. It felt good, and made Abby’s heart beat faster in her chest as she felt the pleasure rushing through her, the sheer _demand_ of it intense and barely even believable. And Irene was still going, not showing any signs of stopping as she kept on playing with Abby’s tits.  
  
“I think,” Irene said, drawing away and trying (and failing) to sound formal and mature, “that you have the best pair of breasts I’ve ever seen, Abby.”  
  
“Seen a lot of them, huh?” Abby asked, not able to keep her words formal, not when she was half-dressed and getting toyed with. “A connoisseur of breasts?”  
  
“A what?” Irene asked, looking confused. “No, I’ve never seen any other breasts. But how could they be better…” Irene trailed off, the embarrassment in what she was saying catching up with her.  
  
Abby wondered if she would ever get tired of the cute expressions that Irene could make. Especially the cute, _embarrassed_ faces. Really, a girl like her deserved so much better than living under a mafia kingpin. And getting forced into a marriage. And getting seduced right out of that marriage.  
  
“That’s very nice of you to say so,” Abby said instead, cradling the back of Irene’s head and holding her closely against Abby’s chest. “Very, very sweet of you.”  
  
Irene shifted around a bit. Partly out of embarrassment, Abby was sure, and partly because Abby was holding her face _very_ close to her chest. And Abby just couldn’t see a reason to let go of her.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Both Abby’s and Irene’s heads _whipped_ over to the closed bedroom door, and Abby felt her own heart skip a beat as she looked at it.  
  
“Ma’am?” Rubio’s voice came through the door, his deep, heavy tones only slightly muffled by the thick door. “Are you inside?”  
  
Irene jumped off of the bed. Meanwhile, Abby grabbed her bodice and lifted it back up, covering her breasts. As much as they _could_ be covered in this outfit, at least. She also stood up. And she even remembered to grab her feather duster from where it had been left laying on the floor as Irene went over to the door and opened it, just a crack.  
  
“Yes, Rubio?” Irene asked, her voice _laden_ with guilt. Abby winced and hoped that if Rubio noticed, he wouldn’t comment on it.  
  
“Your mother has returned home and would like to speak with you, ma’am,” Rubio rumbled. Abby could just see one arm in his usual ill-fitting suit through the crack in the door as Irene stuck her head around it. He paused for a second. “Is everything alright?”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Irene said quickly, her voice no longer sounding quite so guilty. “Abby just needed to dust behind the door, that’s all!”  
  
As lies went, it wasn’t a _bad_ one, Abby supposed. And she lent credence to it by appearing behind Irene, her feather duster obviously and prominently clutched in one hand as she looked at Rubio.  
  
“Alright,” Rubio said, not seeming to see anything wrong in what was going on. Which wasn’t surprising, as Abby had Rubio pegged as someone who was hired because of his loyalty and muscle instead of his ability to read people. “Anyway, she wants to see you, ma’am.”  
  
“Right, right, thank you for letting me know, I’ll be right done,” Irene said before shutting the door in Rubio’s face.  
  
She turned around to lean against it, her eyes wide as she breathed in and out. Abby looked down at her and tried not to smile. Luckily, Irene’s cock had gone down and was no longer obvious just by looking at her. That was one set of questions avoided.  
  
“Irene,” Abby said after a minute where Irene just kept on breathing. “I’m glad that you enjoyed your time with me.” She made sure to speak softly, just in case Rubio was still on the other side of the door. “But now it’s time for you to go and spend time with your mother and I need to get back to work.”  
  
“Yes,” Irene said, closing her eyes and running a hand across her face. She took in a deep breath and glanced up at Abby. “But we can do this again later, right?” She wasn’t making any effort to keep her voice quiet and Abby _really_ hoped that Rubio wasn’t still outside. “I really enjoyed it, Abby.”  
  
“Of course we can,” Abby said with a smile. “But later.”  
  
Irene nodded and stepped away from the door. She took a few more deep breaths, composing herself and then turned to look at the door. As she opened it and left her bedroom, Abby stayed behind, thinking things over.  
  
Well, after a few weeks of working here, she had just taken a major step forward in her goal. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this, not at all. But it was happening and Abby wasn’t the sort of person to go back on her word. She was going to see this thing through, one way or another. That was a _promise_.  
  
And now she had better go and see to her own work. In as much as there was a lot of work for her to do at this time of the day. But she sure couldn’t spend it waiting around in Irene’s bedroom.  
  
Abby had to wonder what the future would hold. She hoped it would be something good for Irene.  
  
The young girl deserved that much, at least.  
  
Smiling to herself, Abby headed down the stairs, her heels muffled by the red carpet that went along the marble steps. That was nice, though Abby had learned to loathe having to turn that thing over every other week.  
  
Abby looked around as she got to the ground story of the house. Next to the door that led to the servant’s area, the storerooms and kitchen and laundry and such, the dining room door was opened slightly. Abby silently went over to close it.  
  
“-sure about this?” Abby recognized the voice of Luigi Rose, sounding stressed and with anger bubbling up underneath the surface. “Those bastards, they’ll pay for this.”  
  
Abby suddenly had second thoughts about drawing attention to herself by closing the door. Which didn’t mean she was going to do an about-face and leave. She glanced around. There was nobody around. Good. She took a few steps closer, carefully lowering each foot so her heels wouldn’t clack on the marble floor.  
  
“Yes, boss,” another voice said. Abby didn’t recognize him, though he sounded a few years younger than Luigi. “Our… informant,” he chuckled darkly, leaving Abby with no question about how willing whoever it had been was. Or had been, that was just as likely, “he didn’t get a name. But he swore up and down that the three heads are planning something.”  
  
“If they touch my Irene they’re all dead men,” Luigi said, his voice as cold as ice. “Did he give you any more details?”  
  
“Just that it wasn’t local talent,” the voice said. “They’re shelling out some serious money to bring someone in from outside.”  
  
Abby looked around again and knelt down, peering through the keyhole. She couldn’t see Luigi, but she could see the other voice. It was a face she only vaguely recognized, wearing a suit a lot less expensive than Mr. Rose did. Abby committed the face to memory, making certain that she wouldn’t forget who one of the Rose’s henchmen was.  
  
“Right,” Mr. Rose said.  
  
A black blur obscured Abby’s vision for a second and she realized that he must be pacing back and forth in front of the door. She stood up and drew a few steps away. Far enough away that it wouldn’t be _obvious_ that she was eavesdropping, but still close enough that she could get a pretty good idea about what was being said. It wasn’t as if Luigi was making any effort to keep his voice down. He was the master of the house, why shouldn’t he do what he pleased in it?  
  
“Right,” he said again after a minute. “So that’s the game they want to play, eh?” His voice sounded _quite_ nasty. “When I get my hands on that thug, that _bastard_ ,” his voice was roiling with fury and Abby swallowed, “his skull’s going to be at the wedding. Nothing’s going to stop us, Ricardo, you hear us? Absolutely fucking nothing.”  
  
“Of course, boss,” Ricardo said. “I’ll talk to some of the boys, and we’ll start asking some serious questions in the right places. We’ll find him. Don’t you worry.”  
  
“Good,” Mr. Rose said. “See to it.”  
  
Abby drew back several more steps from the door and positioned herself so that when Ricardo left the dining room, it looked as if she was just stepping out of the servant’s door. He glanced at her but didn’t stop walking, while Abby kept her eyes downcast as she headed for the stairs to ‘do some cleaning’ again.  
  
As Ricardo left the house, Abby wheeled back around and stepped inside the door she had just pretended to leave. She needed a bit of space to think right now, and in the small warren of cramped rooms and tiny halls, that should give her some space.  
  
So, Abby thought as she leaned against a wall, her brow furrowed. They didn’t know who she was yet. Or even that they had hired a woman. How long was that going to last? Not that long, that was for certain. Would Luigi suspect his maids of anything? He didn’t seem the type to think that a pretty face could do anything but whatever it was that he wanted. But that didn’t mean that everyone underneath him was the same, especially if they had an idea of when Abby had been hired by Balducci. If they did, then comparing that date to when the new maid had started working here… not good. That wouldn’t be good at all.  
  
Abby was on a timer now. She had better wrap this up _quick_.  
  
So maybe Irene’s next… special session with Abby might involve a whole lot more than what Abby had been planning to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Undercover Maid Chapter Two**

  
I knocked on the door and looked around. This wasn’t the _same_ dingy back half of a dingy bar that I had first met Balducci in, but it was hard to tell the difference except for what faded, out-of-date posters were up on the walls.  
  
“Come in.”  
  
I opened the door and quickly crossed over to the small desk that Balducci was sitting behind, doing his best not to actually touch any of the various battered, dirty surfaces that filled the room. I wasn’t huge on the idea either and when I sat down, I still ended up with almost all of my weight on my legs, my butt only barely touching the plastic seat underneath me.  
  
“Madam,” Balducci said, nodding stiffly.  
  
“Nice to meet you as well,” I said, jerking my head up and down. “Listen, we might be in trouble.”  
  
“Indeed?” He said, his thin eyebrows arching as he folded his hands in front of him. “You’re still alive, so the trouble can not be that serious or imminent.”  
  
“They know that your… clients are trying to strike against the marriage,” I said, smoothing down my skirt in a reflexive, mindless motion. “Someone has loose lips.”  
  
“Sadly,” Balducci said with a sigh, “with so many people involved, it’s hardly possible that it could be otherwise. Do they know that it is _you_ that we have contracted?”  
  
“The conversation I overheard used ‘he’ to refer to the infiltrator,” I said, shaking my head back and forth.  
  
“That is… acceptable, then,” Balducci said, closing his eyes. “I am the only one who knows your identity, and only the heads of the three families know that I am using a woman instead of a man.” He opened his eyes, the strength of his will evident, even in his aged face. “There should not be a problem there, so long as progress is still being made.”  
  
Well, _that_ was about as subtle as a punch to the face. I didn’t quite roll my eyes but I was tempted.  
  
“Things are going… well,” I said. I could feel my cheeks starting to heat, just a little bit, and had to hope that the bad lighting in the room would hide it. “Maybe one week, maybe two weeks more, then it will all be over.”  
  
The last half of that was delivered on autopilot as I realized with a shock that the job being done would mean _leaving_. Leaving Irene. And that wasn’t a very nice thought to contemplate. Especially not here, sitting across from a mob lawyer.  
  
“In that case,” Balducci said, rising to his feet and wiping his hands clean, “it seems that we have nothing more to discuss. I look forward to your next report and the delivery of those photos.”  
  
“And I’m looking forward to being paid,” I replied, standing up as well. “See you then.”

*******

I hummed to myself as I walked up the stairs of the mansion. Today had been going pretty well. I hadn’t seen much of Irene, but at least the actual work of being a maid had been pretty light and easy to handle.  
  
Although that might be changing. As I rounded the corner of the hallway, I could see Irene talking to Rubio. Though talking might not be the correct word. It seemed to be a mixture of pleading, demanding, pouting and almost crying.  
  
“But you _said_ that I could go see it,” Irene was saying, waving her hands around in the air and almost catching Rubio in the face with them. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”  
  
“Yes, but,” Rubio said, a harried look on his face, with frustration building up underneath it, “don’t you have some homework that you should be doing?”  
  
“I _did_ the homework already,” Irene groaned. “Aren’t adults supposed to keep their promises?” She caught sight of me as I considered my options (hiding being one of them). “Isn’t that right, Abby?”  
  
“What was the promise?” I asked carefully, deciding that pretending I hadn’t heard Irene wasn’t a workable idea.  
  
“Rubio promised me that he would take me to see _The Lost Princess_ ,” Irene said, crossing her arms under her chest and glaring up at Rubio. It was actually a pretty cute expression to see. “But now he’s saying he won’t.”  
  
“What’s it about?” I asked, glancing over at Rubio, who was starting to look embarrassed more than harassed.  
  
“Oh, it’s the movie for this book series I’ve been reading,” Irene said, brightening up. “All about this girl who discovers she’s a princess for a lost land of magic and adventure and I’ve seen it twice already with Rubio,” I was glancing at Rubio when she said that and he actually flinched, “and he said that I could go see it again.” She fixed him with a glare. “And just because you were drinking when you said that doesn’t get you out of it!”  
  
I nodded, my mind racing. A thought suddenly came to me. This could be the _perfect_ chance to get some time alone with Irene, like I had been looking for.  
  
“How about I take you instead,” I said, placing a hand on Irene’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “My shift ends in less than an hour and then we can go watch it together.”  
  
Irene brightened up at that and actually blushed as she turned to look up at me. She opened her mouth to say something, visibly thought better of it and then just nodded. Rubio sent me a look of profound gratitude.  
  
“That sounds great, Abby,” Irene said, darting forward to give me a quick hug, one she broke before I could respond. “Thank you _so_ much.”  
  
Irene stepped back into her room and closed the door behind her. Rubio looked at me and smiled.  
  
“Thank you as well,” he said. “I’ve had all of the princesses and fairies I can stand for the month.” He shivered. “Who makes a two hour long movie about that sort of thing?”  
  
“Someone who wants the preteen girl’s money,” I said, smiling back as my mind started to run over what I should do once we were there. “Oh, um, we _will_ need you to drive us to the theater, though.”  
  
“That would be happening anyway,” Rubio said. “You think the boss will just let his daughter take the bus or something?” He shook his head. “I’ll wait out in the lobby or something.”  
  
I nodded and smiled, my mind turning to what I would need to do to make sure that Maria wouldn’t want to keep me around once my shift nominally ended. It was a lot less… stressful to think about that than about what I would be doing to and with Irene in the dark movie theater. Especially since I had several incidents from my past to call on to compare.  
  
Well, things had stalled a bit since the party with the Cruzes in regards to me seducing Irene. This could be a big step forward, I thought.  
  
And all it would require was continuing to put the moves on a preteen girl. What a lovely thought.

*******

I looked around the movie theater as I sat down in one of the back rows with Irene. It was pretty empty. I wondered if it was because of the time of day, or if it was because of how long the movie had already been playing for in theaters. Well, either way, it was only going to work to my benefit.  
  
I had changed out of my maid uniform before heading down to the movie theater, obviously. That sort of thing would be _very_ conspicuous, walking through the lobby wearing a black and white French maid outfit. Instead, it was what someone who had to work as a maid would wear on her own. Cheap, sturdy clothing that was a touch out of date. Irene seemed to like it, though, especially since it was hot enough that I was still wearing an outfit that showed off my curves, though not to the extent to what Irene’s father liked having me prance around in while I was working.  
  
“This brings me back,” I quietly said as I got comfortable in the chair, glancing up at the screen and then around at the nearly empty rows of seats.  
  
“What do you mean?” Irene said, glancing up at me. “Have you seen this before?”  
  
“Never even heard of it, ma’am,” I said, shaking my head. “But when I was just a bit older than you,” (by five years or so), “I came here with my boyfriends or girlfriends quite a bit.” I snorted, half in memory and half in _acting_ like I was recalling memories. “And sometimes we even watched what was showing.”  
  
“What did you do the other times?” Irene asked, a tense, excited tone in her voice.  
  
“This and that,” I said coyly, lowering my hand and resting it one top of hers. “It was usually even more fun than watching the movie would be.”  
  
“What did you do _exactly_?” Irene asked, sounding a bit huffy that I didn’t give the answer she had wanted to hear.  
  
“Well,” I said, moving my fingers back and forth along her hand, “I kissed quite a few people while the movie was playing.”  
  
Actually, I had kissed three people during the movie, and had only gone further than that with two of them. But hey, why let the truth get in the way of what I was doing? And _wow_ , phrasing it like that made me sound like the world’s biggest shitbag, didn’t it?  
  
Before I was finished beating myself up over that, I realized that Irene was crawling into my lap. I blinked, staring down at her in surprise. Then she was wrapping her arms around my neck and lifting herself up. Her blonde head obscured the screen as she drew closer and closer. It was pretty obvious what was happening, but I wasn’t going to fight it. Instead, I just hugged her and got ready.  
  
Irene didn’t quite connect the first time. Her lips pressed against my cheek and chin, just down and to the left of my lips. I smiled at that and when she withdrew her head to try again, advanced. _I_ managed to find her lips and pressed my face forward. Irene gasped quietly and I could feel her shivering in my arms.  
  
It felt nice to kiss Irene. Really, really nice. I had kissed plenty of people, but having someone so cute and sweet and innocent kissing me was something that hadn’t really happened to me before. It felt _really_ nice to kiss her and I could feel a spark of excitement come to life inside of me, quietly burning as we kissed again.  
  
I held off on shoving my tongue down Irene’s throat. We should take this slowly. At least take _some_ of it slowly, because I was certain that her cock was quickly growing as hard as a rock inside of her dress as she kissed me. I was getting pretty worked up myself.  
  
“Abby,” Irene whispered quietly, her breath puffing against my face as she wiggled around on my lap, her knees digging into my thighs. “That was really…” if I was able to properly see her face, I was sure that I would have seen a _very_ cute blush on her cheeks. I could certainly hear it all through her voice. “That was nice.”  
  
“And we can do it again,” I said quietly. Just because there weren’t many people in the theater didn’t mean that it was _empty_. I had to take at least _some_ precautions. “You try it this time.”  
  
Irene quickly nodded. I could see strands of her hair getting illuminated against the screen as the movie proper started to play. It was probably a good thing that Rubio wasn’t going to be asking any questions about it, since I would have trouble saying anything about it.  
  
Irene did better kissing me this time. She actually hit the mark, her lips pressing right up against mine as her hands squeezed down on my shoulders. It felt really nice and I could feel myself getting more and more excited as she kissed me. I was doing my best to keep my hands only on her upper arms as well, not wanting to go too far too fast.  
  
Still, when we broke, I was shivering and panting, feeling a _heat_ inside of me as I stared at her. Irene was looking back at me, though it was hard to make out her expression. I glanced down, but couldn’t really see any bulges in her crotch, not with the dress she was wearing.  
  
“Abby,” Irene moaned, scooting a bit closer and pressing more of her body up against me. “Abby, this feels so good.”  
  
“I’m loving it too,” I replied, glancing around to make sure that nobody was paying attention to us. “And there’s something else I can do to help you.” I fixed her with a look, although I couldn’t tell if she knew that I was looking at her. “But you need to be quiet, understand? I don’t want to get thrown out of the theater.”  
  
Irene nodded, making a zipping motion in front of her lips. I smiled and planted a quick kiss on those lips. I was getting more and more aroused and could feel the heat pulsing inside of me as I kissed her again and again.  
  
“Here,” I whispered, reaching down to grab her hips. “Sit down on my lap.”  
  
Irene did so, grunting a bit as she swung around. She wiggled around as she got comfortable on my lap. I swallowed heavily, looking down at the top of her head. She was so _cute_. And so young, of course, which was a big problem. But I wasn’t going to stop now.  
  
Instead, I let my hands lightly glide down the front of her body, until they reached her crotch. One hand started massaging her dick, which I could feel was hard and stiff even through her clothing. The other hand started fiddling with her clothing, trying best to figure out how to _get_ at the dick. It wasn’t terribly easy, but I didn’t give up. Of course, that didn’t leave any room for my own pleasure, but that was alright. I was probably going to masturbate as soon as I was at my apartment anyway.  
  
I finally figured out how to get Irene’s dick free, hauling her dress quite a way up her legs. I looked down past her head and saw her slender, bare legs. And I saw her dick sticking out of her panties. It looked _very_ hard and just waiting for me to start stroking it.  
  
I did so, wrapping my hand around the shaft. And pressing my other hand over Irene’s mouth, just in case. Then I started to stroke it, running my hand up and down Irene’s beautiful, hairless shaft. I shifted around in my seat, feeling the heat rising inside of my lower belly.  
  
Irene had tilted her head back to look up at me. I looked down at her as well, feeling my heart beating in my chest as I stared at her. She looked so _cute_. Especially with this look on her delicate features. I wasn’t used to seeing a look of lust this strong on someone so young, but it still looked so _right_ on her face. Part of me wanted to go a _lot_ further than we had already gone and see just how cute Irene would look as I properly took her virginity. But there was _no_ way that she’d be able to stay quiet during that, and that was only _one_ of the reasons why that would be a bad idea.  
  
Instead, I just kept on giving Irene a handjob, gliding my hand up and down along her cock again and again as I took care of her. And that was _more_ than enough, given how she kept on squirming around on my lap as my hand pumped up and down along her rod.  
  
It was sweet, really sweet. I swallowed heavily, feeling a lump in my throat as I looked down at her. I had to keep on going, I wasn’t going to be stopping anytime soon. Not when she was this perfect and sweet and looked so _nice_. I shivered, panting and feeling pretty turned on myself.  
  
“Abby,” Irene whispered, squirming around on my lap. “It feels good.”  
  
“And it will feel better,” I said just as quietly. “But you need to stay quiet during it, alright?”  
  
Irene nodded, her face looking really _sweet_ as I kept on working.  
  
Her cock was as hard as a rock in my hand. I wondered how long she could possibly last. Well, we had two hours or so to find out.  
  
In fact, it took a lot less than two hours before Irene came. It was maybe five minutes. At most seven. At any rate, Irene moaned, her eyes closing as she jerked her hips back and forth. Her moaning grew louder and louder and I quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. If the positions had been better, I probably would have just kissed her.  
  
I felt my hand getting covered with her cum. Irene was cumming a lot and it all seemed to be ending up on my hand. Irene shuddered and I could almost hear her heart beating, she was having such a good time.  
  
I was having a pretty good time myself, although I wasn’t anywhere near an orgasm myself. My panties were still getting wet and my nipples were still pressing into my bra.  
  
“Abby,” Irene said finally, slumping backwards against me, her head resting against my breasts. “Thank you, thank you, _thank_ you.”  
  
“Not at all, Irene,” I said with a smile as I considered what to do with the cum that was all over my hand. Then a thought came to me. “It was all worth it to make sure that you got to feel good, Irene.”  
  
Then I lifted my hand and started licking the cum away. It tasted like, well, cum. That obviously came as a big surprise, but I didn’t mind the taste _that_ much. It was salty and sticky and pretty much everything I would have expected it to taste like. And it had quite the effect on Irene.  
  
She was staring at me with her mouth hanging open wide. It was a pretty cute look on her, actually. I smiled and winked at her as I finished licking the rest of it off of my hand. She was breathing in and out pretty quickly, though her cock wasn’t actually growing hard as she watched me. Give it a few minutes, though.  
  
“See something you like?” I asked, pitching my voice low and huskily.  
  
Irene nodded, actually getting off of my lap and turning around so her neck wasn’t put under quite so much pressure. She swallowed heavily, to the point where I could even see her throat bulging. Then she sat back down in her seat and leaned across the divider, looking up at me.  
  
“Can I… can I touch you?” Irene whispered, sounding a bit ashamed and very turned on. “Like you did me?”  
  
I smiled at that and reached down, grabbing her hands. Then I lifted them upwards, placing them on my breasts. Irene gasped and smiled at that. Then she squeezed down, just a bit. That _did_ feel nice. That felt really nice, actually. I shivered as she kept on groping my breasts, straight through my shirt and bra. Heh, and she was still taking it slow. Any of the targets I had seduced over the past few years would already have my boobs out and be playing with them directly if it was up to them. But this still felt nice. It felt _really_ nice and I wasn’t complaining as I felt her working at my chest, kneading and squeezing down as she played with my boobs.  
  
“They’re so big and soft,” Irene said, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the movie playing. Heh, it looked like Act One was wrapping up and I didn’t even know anything about it beyond what Irene had said earlier. “They’re so _nice_ , Abby.”  
  
“Thank you,” I cooed, pushing my chest forward a bit against her hands. “And you’re making them feel _very_ good, Irene.”  
  
Irene blushed prettily at that. She kept on touching me, of course, her hands really making me feel pretty damn nice as she worked me over. I shivered and wondered if actual masturbating would be a good idea right now or not. Or if having Irene reach down to touch my pussy would be a better idea.  
  
“Abby?” Irene asked softly, still touching me and making me feel nice. “Do you want to…” she swallowed heavily and looked away. I didn’t say anything and waited for her to get herself ready.  
  
“You’re so pretty, Abby,” Irene said finally. “Why are you doing all of this?” She looked up at me, her hands falling down to her sides. “You could be one of Father’s mistresses or something, anything you wanted. But you’re spending all this time with me.”  
  
“I’m with you because I like spending time with you,” I smoothly answered. And it wasn’t even an actual lie. There was a whole lot more to why I was doing this than just how much I liked Irene, but I _did_ like spending time with her. And doing more than spending time with her. “You’re a sweet, smart, funny girl, Irene,” I said, only saying the truth. “I’m very glad that I get to spend time with you.”  
  
Irene nodded but she didn’t entirely look satisfied. And I could guess why. But… just how far was I willing to go, really? I shifted around, trying to get my thoughts in order. Something that wasn’t helped by how turned on I was feeling. That sort of thing always made it harder to think.  
  
“I like spending time with you,” Irene said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. The movie was getting louder, but I didn’t even glance at it, wanting to focus on Irene and what she had to say. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted more than… do you always want to be a maid, Abby?”  
  
Of course I didn’t. One of the reasons I had set out on this life of mine was to get away from the prospect of ending up old and grey and bent from working at a fast food restaurant or as a more normal maid or whatever staying back there would have given me. Of course, I wasn’t _really_ a maid right now. I was just pretending to be one, like I had pretended to be a bit of arm candy or a long lost granddaughter or whatever it was that I needed to be to finish the job.  
  
“It’s… a life,” I said, not a good enough actor to pretend that I _liked_ the idea of being a maid. “And getting to spend time with you is one of the best parts of my job.”  
  
Irene nodded and a small smile appeared on her face. It didn’t stay on there for very long though and soon she frowned, looking off to the side at the screen. Then she turned back to me.  
  
“But do you love me?” Irene asked. “I love you. I think I do.” She frowned again, a pretty cute expression, really. “I think about you more than I ever do about Maria.”  
  
I hesitated, trying to think of the best way to answer that. Which wasn’t made any easier because I _didn’t_ know how I felt about Irene. Sad over the life she was forced into, guilt over what I was doing to her and obviously there was attraction. But love? I just wasn’t sure.  
  
And I wasn’t sure that Irene knew what love was either. She _was_ very young and if she had ever even had a crush on someone before, I would be surprised. But how to _tell_ her this? It was a difficult needle to thread and I wasn’t sure how to exactly go about it. Well, I had to try, at least.  
  
“Irene,” I said. Just from the way I said her name, she could tell that I wasn’t going to be returning her affections. Her face fell, but I pushed on. “You are a sweet, wonderful girl and I want to spend more time with you. But I just don’t know if I love you yet.”  
  
“Yet?” Irene asked, so quietly I could only tell what she had said by the way that her lips moved. “Does that mean that…” she trailed off.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere, Irene,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I’m still going to be here with you, for as long as you need me to be.”  
  
It wasn’t a _great_ feeling, lying to her like that, but it was what she wanted to hear. She still looked kind of down over the whole thing, but she didn’t look _as_ depressed as she had before. I was going to count that as a win.  
  
I hoped I hadn’t just made a big mistake by telling Irene that. I _was_ going to be leaving, sooner or later. And Irene wouldn’t be coming with me. I didn’t want to hurt her too much. But I was groping around in the dark and I just wasn’t sure what to do. I supposed I could only hope that what I had said would be for the best.  
  
We settled down to watch the rest of the movie. I was completely and utterly lost by this point and Irene herself didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to the picture. But that was alright. I needed some time to think as hard as I could.

*******

“Abby?” Irene asked me, moodily staring out the window, her homework half-completed in front of her. “Do you ever feel guilty about working for my father?”  
  
“What do you mean, miss?” I asked, glancing over at her as I put her clothes away in the drawer.  
  
“I mean, well, you know how Father makes his money, don’t you?” Irene asked, glancing at me before staring out the window again at the town spread out below. “All of the illegal stuff he does.”  
  
“He has… certain connections, yes,” I said, trying to think of how an actual maid would respond to this line of questioning and wondering where it was all going. “I’m not involved in any of that, though. I just clean the house and look after you.”  
  
“The house that was built with all that dirty money,” Irene said, her leg starting to kick back and forth, driving against the carpet. “And he’s paying you with the money he gets from drug running and brothels and all that stuff.”  
  
“That seems likely, miss,” I said, staring at the back of her head, wondering what was worrying her. Her tone was quiet and contemplative, like she wasn’t entirely listening to what I was saying.  
  
“And when I marry Maria, he will have even more freedom to do more things, won’t he?” Irene asked. “Maybe he’ll drive all those other families out of the country and then I’ll live in an even bigger mansion because he’ll have even more money from all those people he extorts.”  
  
I licked my lips, glancing at the closed bedroom door. This really wasn’t the kind of thing that Rubio should be overhearing. Nothing would happen to Irene, probably. But me? A maid, even a sexy maid, was far less valuable to the kind of man that Rose was than his daughter. Of course, if Rubio actually _tried_ anything, he’d discover that my high heels were rather spikey, that I was pretty flexible and that groin protection would have been a good idea but was pretty pointless now.  
  
“What brought this on, Irene,” I said, squatting down to put ourselves at the same level.  
  
“I was talking to Josephine at lunch today. You know her, right?”  
  
I shrugged. I knew _of_ her, just like I knew of all of Irene’s friends. But I had never actually met any of them. They never came over to play, so they were just names and a personality trait or two.  
  
“Her dad’s in trouble,” Irene said, not even really looking at me to see how I had responded. “He’s having to pay Father a _lot_ of money.” She shifted around. “Josephine started crying because she might be moving away.”  
  
I nodded and swallowed. Well. That was… a thing. How was I supposed to _respond_ to that? I rubbed Irene’s shoulder back and forth, making some soft noises as she stared down at her homework, squeezing her pencil so tightly it seemed like it would break.  
  
“And Father’s been really happy lately,” she continued. I nodded. I didn’t know him very well, but when I had seen him in the halls of his mansion, he _had_ been smiling more often than not. “He was boasting to Mother last night over dinner about how much they were pulling down and how they didn’t have to pay a single lira in taxes on any of it.” She shifted around in her seat. “He asked me if there was anything that I wanted as a present or something.”  
  
I nodded again. Well, this was a _very_ difficult situation to walk my way through, even if I didn’t still have to keep on playing being a maid. I racked my brain, trying to think of something appropriate to say. Something about how much her father loved her despite the things he did? Even if that was an excuse, I wasn’t sure it was true. He loved the _idea_ of having a prim and proper daughter, but with some of the scoldings I had overheard when Irene had acted out or messed up… if a robot could have taken Irene’s place, would he take the offer? Even the fact that I had to consider how likely that was didn’t paint a very good picture.  
  
“Well, Irene,” I said, shifting from side to side and moving my arm around her body to give her a one-armed hug, “everyone does unpleasant things from time to time. Would telling your father about this change anything?”  
  
I didn’t think so and the face that Irene made confirmed my suspicions. I sighed and tried to think of something else to say. Something profound and insightful, with any luck.  
  
“What would you like your father to do?” I asked.  
  
“Give up all of his money,” Irene said instantly. “He could sell the house and fire everyone and then give all the money he stole back to the people he hurt to get it from.” I looked down at her. She was staring straight ahead, a surprisingly determined expression on her face. “It would suck, not getting to live here anymore,” Irene said, looking around a bedroom that wasn’t all that much smaller than the entire apartment I was renting. “But knowing that I get all of this because Father hurts people and lies and steals from them…” she shook her head. “It’s got to be worth it, right?”  
  
I slowly nodded, trying to think and shying away from the thoughts that said my own money wasn’t exactly ethically sourced either. I didn’t saw fingers off from my business rivals or anything, but was saying that at least I made sure the people I killed didn’t suffer for long really such a strong moral point to make a stand on?  
  
“To a certain extent, everyone hurts someone else,” I said slowly, looking down at her and trying to gauge just how much of an effect what I was saying was having on her. “Especially when it comes to making money. But,” I sighed, “you are right. Your father does do some very bad things to afford all of this.” I paused. “Have you thought about asking anyone else for their thoughts on this sort of thing?” I asked.  
  
“I thought about maybe going to pray or asking the Holy Sisters,” Irene said. “But the bishop said that Father was an outstanding pillar of the community because he gave a bunch of money to the Church. And everyone around here works for Father, so they’re not going to say anything about him.” She looked up at me and smiled. “Except for you.”  
  
I smiled back, patting her shoulder. Part of me was starting to worry about getting chewed out by Maria for slacking off upstairs instead of coming down to help her. But she could wait. It wasn’t like I was devoted to getting a raise at the end of the year or anything. Irene was more important, even if I _hadn’t_ been working to get closer to her.  
  
“I’m not a philosopher or a lawyer,” I said, only for Irene to groan. “And yes, I know your father has lots of lawyers. I can’t give you all the answers you’re looking for. But just because you live off of your father’s money doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”  
  
“Does it mean I’m a good one?” Irene asked right back, as quick as a whip.  
  
This was getting into some pretty deep territory, the kind of thing that I normally didn’t ever bother to think about. I shifted around, my eyes staring off into the distance as I tried to figure out just what it was that I should say in response. It wasn’t even about staying in cover as a maid, it was just figuring out what the right answer _was_.  
  
“I think,” I said, gesturing in front of me, trying to put my half-formed thoughts into words, “I think it doesn’t disqualify you from being a good person,” I frowned, trying to put my thoughts into order. “You can- Especially since there’s no way that you _can’t_ live off of your father’s money. He’s going to keep on providing for you and making money the way he does and there’s nothing you can really do to stop it one way or another.”  
  
Irene frowned, lowering her gaze. Yeah, that did make things sound kind of hopeless. More hopeless than it really should be. But what should I say to make things better?  
  
“So, the important thing is,” I said, “that just doing the right thing counts for a lot. Maybe…” I didn’t know how much Irene got as an allowance, beyond it being a lot. But it certainly wouldn’t be enough to cover for what her father was extorting from her friend’s parents, would it? And it didn’t feel too right to tell a young girl that she had to give up her allowance to make things right over something someone else did. “I don’t know, Irene, I really don’t,” I finished lamely, sighing heavily and looking at her. “This just isn’t the sort of thing that I think about a lot.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Irene said quietly, with hints of frustration and sadness in her voice. “Thank you for talking with me about it, anyway.”  
  
“Of course, Irene,” I said. “And if I can think of something better to say, I’ll tell you.” I smiled a bit. “After all, you raised some pretty good points.”  
  
Irene smiled a bit at that and glanced down at her homework. And I should be getting back to my own work as well, I supposed.  
  
As I left the room, I was struck by a thought. Was _I_ a good person, according to what I had said? I was lying to a lot of people (most of them not very nice people at all, but still), in order to ruin a prospective marriage and, quite frankly, probably make a little girl cry. That didn’t exactly sound like something a pure, upright heroine would do. Especially since it was all for money. But what other choice did I have?

*******

I had been doing some thinking. And the more I thought it over, the less I was comfortable with the idea of giving photos of Irene in a… compromising situation with me over to Balducci. Not that I was worried over my _own_ reputation, of course. I had done something pretty similar before. But it was Irene that I was worried about.  
  
Those photos would last for, well, forever. Irene would be a woman in her thirties and there would still be photos of her fucking me. Was that good at all? I didn’t think so. She was such a cute, sweet girl and I wanted something better than that for her.   
  
So I had started thinking of other ways to make this go as it should. Why were the photos needed? Because the three other crime families in the region didn’t want the Roses and Cruzes to form a marriage alliance between Irene and Maria Cruz. And photos showing that Irene had been unfaithful before she had even gotten married (sometime in the next six years or so) would probably do the trick.  
  
But what if I cut out the middleman and had Maria see Irene cheating on her with me? Irene probably wouldn’t be that broken up over the engagement falling apart. As for Maria… well, she seemed like a sweet girl the one time I had met her, but I didn’t really _know_ her. It was easy to close my heart to any suffering she might undergo as a result.  
  
The problem, of course, or at least _one_ of the problems was what Balducci would think. He hadn’t _said_ that his clients wanted those photos for a lifetime of blackmail, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that had been an unstated side benefit to the entire plan. If I did what I was told to do while frustrating their unspoken objectives, would I still get paid? It was hard to say.  
  
And, frankly, not something I cared about that much. The first half of the payment was still sitting in my Swiss account, just waiting for me to not be playacting as a maid. Along with quite a bit of other money, because I was _good_ at what I did.  
  
And I could see a way to put the plan into action, too. There was another party coming up later this week, to help tie the two crime families closer together. Both Irene and Maria would be there. It would be the perfect time to act on what I had decided and hope for the best. And then?  
  
I didn’t know what would happen next, actually. Some times it just didn’t pay to plan too far into the future. Get through the party, make sure that Maria saw what she was supposed, get the engagement broken and then I’d _leave_. Quite possibly just in front of some of Mr. Rose’s hired thugs who would be keen on explaining how _upset_ he was over the past year of work and effort being broken by the eyecandy he had hired to clean the house.  
  
Well, that wouldn’t be the _first_ time I ran away from a mansion with the taste of cum on my lips as a very angry man demanded my head. It would be the first time I did it in a maid’s dress, though.

*******

I was walking with Irene through the gardens surrounding the mansion. Well, Irene was walking and I was carrying her easel and canvas. It was a beautiful day out and it did make quite a bit of sense to go and get some painting done. If you were any good at painting. Irene had _some_ talent, at least. More than I did. I was just could comfortable with my ability to make multi-colored stick figures, while Irene had at least some sense of how to present things.  
  
It had been a very quiet day. Mr. Rose was down in Pavioa, doing something or other. I was sure I would be more comfortable if I didn’t know the exact details. And Mrs. Rose was on the second day of a three day shopping trip in Milan, with Maria with her. So the mansion was _very_ quiet. All the better for me, of course.  
  
“Here’s good,” Irene said, pointing at a spot on the grass.  
  
I set up the easel (making sure it was set up for _Irene’s_ height and not my own), looking around. It was a pretty nice spot, actually. Underneath some tall trees that provided plenty of shade while still letting the sunlight fall through the leaves in dappled patterns on the grass. The shrubs and such that surrounded the trees cut off the ground floor of the mansion from view and even though we were still inside the walls of the estate, it was possible to believe, at least for a bit, that there was nobody else around. There wasn’t even much in the way of traffic, since we were on the back side of the estate, with a wall and a steep slope cutting us off from the nearest road.  
  
As I set up the easel, Irene got her paint and brushes ready. I wondered what it was that she was going to paint. And how good it would look once she was done. Well, nothing to do but wait and find out, I supposed. It wasn’t as if I had anything better to do with my day than spend it with her, anyway.  
  
“Um, Abby?” Irene asked as she took up a position behind the canvas. “Would you mind posing for me?”  
  
Well, that answered _that_ question. I looked at her in surprise.  
  
“Me, Irene?” I asked a but dumbly.  
  
“Yes,” Irene said quickly. “Mr. Malcone says that I need to work on my faces and you’re the prettiest face here.”  
  
I didn’t need to actually see her face to see the blush that was spreading across her face when she said that. I smiled. That sweet of her. And true, of course, although the other maids and Mrs. Rose _did_ look hot as well. Which was why they were here in the mansion, of course.  
  
“That’s very kind of you to say so, Irene,” I replied, looking at her as she peeked around the canvas. “I’ll be happy to help and model for you. How would you like me to pose?”  
  
I thought about making a joke about having her paint me like one of her French girls, but then realized that I would have to explain the joke. And a joke that needed explanation was no joke at all. Also, there was a good chance that would be too lewd for Irene and her stammering fit would cause the entire proposal to sink.  
  
“Oh, I’m just doing your face,” Irene said, whipping her paint brush back and forth. “You don’t need to do anything special.”  
  
I nodded, looking around for a comfortable space to sit while Irene painted me. I wondered how it would turn out. The only time I had gotten my face painted before (and well, that conjured up some lewd images that were _not_ what I had meant) was at a wedding where the newlyweds had brought in a cariticure artist who had sketched off about twenty people in forty minutes. I wondered how long Irene would take.  
  
When had I stopped calling Irene ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Miss Irene’ and just started referring to her as Irene? I wasn’t sure. Irene obviously didn’t mind. I supposed I shouldn’t do so in front of her parents, but oh well. It just felt so much more natural to call her Irene. And that was only partly due to the differences in our ages.  
  
I settled down on the grass, folding my legs up underneath me. It was nice and cool underneath the trees, though the manor walls cut off the breeze that was making the tops sway gently from side to side. I breathed in deeply, feeling the air washing over my body and hearing the birds singing. This was nice. This was _very_ nice. I could easily see myself going to sleep out here, just curling up and taking a nap, maybe with a nice glass of wine to help send me on my way.  
  
“Okay,” Irene said. “Could you look to the left a bit?” I turned my head to the left. “Ah, no, sorry, I mean to _my_ left. Your right.” I did so again, a brief grin flitting over my face. “Okay and lift your head up a bit.”  
  
“My up or your up?” I asked teasingly.  
  
“Um, my up, not your- hey!”  
  
I laughed and Irene pouted at me as I lifted my head until it was at the proper angle. She didn’t have any more instructions for me, so I just stared off into the distance and sat as still as I could.  
  
It was actually a bit tiring to hold my head still, gazing off into the distance. I wondered how long Irene was going to take and if she would notice if I moved around. Best not to. Instead, I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of all the flowers in the garden wafting through the air. This was nice. This was very, very nice.  
  
“Okay,” Irene said decisively. “I’m done.”  
  
I rose to my feet and walked over to look at the result. And it was pretty good. Far, far better than anything I could have done. You could tell that it was supposed to be me, even if my skin tone wasn’t quite right, looking a bit too shiny. And my eyes weren’t that far up my forehead, were they? I resisted the urge to check, my fingers twitching at my side.  
  
“What do you think?” Irene asked me anxiously, glancing up at me. “It looks good, right?”  
  
“Yes, it’s quite good,” I said, nodding. “I’m sure your art teacher will be very happy with the result.”  
  
Irene smiled at that, looking at the portrait and nodding in satisfaction. I stretched, working my neck to get the kinks out of it. For a girl her age, it _was_ pretty good. As if I could do something even half as good with a decade and a half on her, I thought.  
  
“So what would you like to do now, Irene?” I asked, lifting my arms above my head to work out the last of the soreness. “It’s at least another three hours before dinner.”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Irene said thoughtfully, tapping her chin with her paintbrush. I wondered how long it would take her to realize that she had just painted her chin orange. And if, as a good maid, I should tell her that or not. “It’s much too nice to spend all afternoon cooped up inside. But my friends are all busy so…” she looked up at me and nodded. “Could you go get us some ginger lemonade, Abby?”  
  
“Of course, Irene,” I said with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
And I was, carrying a tray with two glasses, a full pitcher and some crackers with cheese. And making certain that there weren’t any sudden dips or holes in the lawn, because I _was_ wearing high heels and carrying a moderately heavy tray in front of me. That was the kind of combination that could easily end up getting an embarrassing number of views on Youtube.  
  
I didn’t have any accidents, though, and quickly rejoined Irene, who was sprawled out in almost the same spot I had been while I had been modeling for her. I carefully sat the tray down and then sat down as well, sitting right next to her, just a handful of centimeters away from her side. Before I could even reach out, she was already pouring the two of us a glass of lemonade. Technically, that was supposed to be my job, but oh well, that wasn’t a point of protocol I was going to insist on.  
  
It was very nice here, sitting by Irene’s side and not doing much of anything. But there was one small problem. Well, it wasn’t a problem exactly, so much as it was just something that was… I wasn’t sure how to properly describe it while still dancing around the subject.  
  
I was horny. I had dreamed some _extremely_ pleasant dreams last night and had woken up feeling pretty horny. I had _just_ started to take care of that when I looked at the time and realized where I needed to be. And the work so far today hadn’t been engaging enough to really take my mind off of the heat that was between my legs.  
  
And now, with Irene this close to me and neither of us doing anything? It was getting _really_ hard to not have my mind go down certain paths as I thought about how cute and sweet Irene was and how rock hard her dick could get. I wasn’t actually _wet_ yet, but there was a pulsing inside of my lower belly that was making it hard to just properly enjoy the quiet and peace of the gardens.  
  
I did my best, of course, closing my eyes and breathing in and out deeply, the scent of the garden’s flowers wafting up to my nose and the birds singing overhead. I looked down at Irene, who was quietly eating some of the crackers and looking out over the greenery with a smile on her face.  
  
“This is nice,” she said, putting the cup down and leaning against the side of my body. She closed her eyes and smiled. “This is really nice.”  
  
I nodded and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, letting her rest more comfortably against me. I stroked her hair, just a bit as I looked down at her. There was still a _heat_ inside of me, one that wasn’t going down just because I had the object of my lust pressed up against me. At least I didn’t have a dick, otherwise that would start to be _really_ obvious and kind of embarrassing. Instead, I just pressed my thighs together, feeling the muscles twitching underneath my skin.  
  
“Are you alright, Abby?” Irene asked, tilting her head back but not actually opening her eyes to look at me.  
  
“Yes, I’m fine,” I quickly said. “Just feeling a bit worked up from this morning, that’s all.”  
  
“Oh,” she said. There was a moment’s pause. “Is there anything I can do to help with it?”  
  
I coughed a bit. There certainly _was_. In my experience, a skillfully handled dick was far better than my fingers could be. Not that I expected her to have a skillfully handled dick, of course, since I was _certain_ her experience with sex was only what I had done with her. But even so…  
  
“No, I don’t think so,” I said after a bit. “It’s a bit of a personal problem, if you get what I mean.”  
  
“Oh,” Irene said again. There was another pause. “Do you mean that you’re horny?”  
  
It was probably a good thing that I wasn’t drinking from my own glass of lemonade. I still made a huffing sound and looked back down at her. Irene’s eyes were open now and she was staring up at me, an intent look on her face. I opened and closed my mouth before deciding to go with the truth.  
  
“Yes, I am, actually,” I admitted. “I have been all day.”  
  
Irene nodded seriously. It was adorable to see that solemn of a look on a face so young and pretty. Especially on a subject like arousal.  
  
“I can get like that during school sometimes,” Irene said, pushing herself off of my shoulder so she could get a better look at me. “It can be _really_ distracting.” She looked down at the lower half of her body. “And the skirt I have to wear doesn’t help.”  
  
No, I would bet that it didn’t. I smiled a bit at the thought and nodded, staring at Irene. This conversation was making me feel pretty aware of the level of arousal I was feeling. It wasn’t actually growing, but it wasn’t decreasing inside of me either.  
  
“Would you like to… take care of it?” Irene asked me, a light blush appearing on her cheeks as she stared.  
  
I opened and closed my mouth, trying to get my thoughts into order as I considered the question. Would I like to cum? Yes, believe it or not. I was in favor of orgasms, as surprising as that could be. Did I want to cum here and now, in front of Irene and out in the open? That was another question, one that I didn’t have a quick and easy answer to. I considered the questions, shifting around as I tried to get my head screwed on straight enough to answer it.  
  
“Yes, I would,” I decided, looking down at Irene. “If that’s alright with you, ma’am?”  
  
“Yes, that is completely fine with me,” Irene said with an imperious nod I couldn’t possibly take seriously. “Go right ahead.”  
  
I smiled at that and took one more look around the place. Nobody from the mansion could see us and there wasn’t anyone outside. In fact, it was the gardener’s day off so there wasn’t a reason for anyone to be out here, either. That was all settled then.  
  
I started undressing, slowly sliding out of my maid uniform. It wasn’t _quite_ a strip tease, for a couple of reasons. I didn’t want to blow Irene’s mind with unbridled sexuality and lust, for one. For another, I wasn’t sure how good I would actually _be_ at a strip tease. There was a difference between shaking my hips a bit as I slid a skirt off of and actually prancing around.  
  
Irene didn’t much seem to mind, assuming that she even knew that things could get better. She stared at me with wide, hungry eyes as I undressed, neatly folding my maid uniform and placing it off to one side. I smiled at her as I got down to my underwear. It wasn’t quite as fancy as the maid uniform was, or at least it wasn’t as slutty. But Irene still liked the sight of me in it. She liked it a _lot_ , staring at me with wide eyes and a happy expression on her face.  
  
And a hard dick, too. I could see that her dress must be getting a bit tight around her crotch. Well, maybe I could take care of that later, or maybe I would just keep on looking pretty and sexy and enjoying myself.  
  
“Now, I don’t know how much this is ever going to affect you,” I said, lowering my voice a bit to sound properly husky and seductive, “but when a woman masturbates, it’s important that she goes about it the _right_ way.” I ran my hands up and down along my body, stroking my sides and lightly brushing over my chest. “I don’t have a dick that I can just pump my hand up and down along a few times and end up feeling great over.”  
Irene nodded, her hands balled up at her side as she watched intently. I kind of wondered just how much of this she was taking in, versus just etching every second of this into her eyeballs. Oh well, if she needed some tips later, I would be happy to give them to her.  
  
“It’s important that I get into the mood,” I said, unclasping my bra and letting the straps fall free as I clutched the cups of the bra to my chest. “Luckily, I’m already in the mood.”  
  
I dropped the bra to the grass, letting my large, firm breasts stand free. Irene made a noise in the back of her throat at that as she stared. It was pretty satisfying, really, seeing the look on her face as she stared at me. It was so _cute_. Cute pretty well described Irene in quite a few ways, actually, but this was _very_ cute.  
  
I grabbed my panties and slowly slid them down my legs, kicking them off to one side where, by nothing more than luck, they landed on top of my maid uniform. Then I spread my legs a bit, letting Irene get a good look at what lay in between them. She stared, though with not _quite_ as much hunger as she had at my breasts. Part of me wondered why. Probably because while she knew how fun boobs could feel underneath her hands and around her cock, she didn’t know what it was like to play with a pussy. Well, she would learn about that sooner or later.  
  
“Now, I like to have something for me to look at while I’m masturbating,” I said. “But it isn’t _needed_.” I smirked. “And since there’s no screen around for me to watch porn on, I’ll just need to use my imagination.”  
  
“I, I,” Irene said, opening and closing her mouth before suddenly shutting it. “No, never mind!”  
  
Well, well, well, what had she been about to suggest? My imagination suggested a few ideas, ideas that helped get me even more in the mood. I smiled as I got comfortable on the grass, feeling the blades pricking into my skin as I wiggled around. Then I spread my legs pretty far apart and let Irene get a good look at my naked body without anything getting in the way.  
  
For now, at least. My hand _was_ going to be blocking the view of my pussy sooner or later. That was just how this was going to work. But for now, I could give Irene a show she was _really_ obviously enjoying. I was surprised that she wasn’t actually masturbating yet, but I supposed she might be a bit too embarrassed. Oh well, that wasn’t much of a problem.  
  
“I like paying attention to my breasts,” I said, reaching up to cup and squeeze them, digging my hands into the soft mounds and moaning. It _did_ feel good, although not quite as good as I was making it sound as I played with them. “They’re so _sensitive_ and so easy to get to.”  
  
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Irene said, nodding her head quickly and still staring with wide eyes.  
  
“I also like touching my thighs and my butt,” I said, quickly demonstrating. Not that my butt ever got that much attention, because it wasn’t _as_ sensitive and I was usually sitting on it instead of being able to play with it. “But most of all…” I moved my hand to cover my crotch and wasn’t able to resist giving it a few light strokes. It was just enough to start getting me worked up. “I like playing with my pussy.”  
  
Irene nodded, leaning forward farther and farther. If she got much more forward, she was going to fall flat on her face. That would be hilarious, but not _exactly_ keeping with the erotic situation in the air.  
  
I started to pay a proper amount of attention to my pussy, stroking it with my fingers and shivering. Oh, that felt _good_. That felt really good. I moaned, keeping up the pace. I hadn’t slid inside yet, but that wasn’t needed to make myself feel good. There was still my clit and lips and everything else that I could enjoy.  
  
I supposed I should be saying something here, but the words weren’t coming to mind quickly and I couldn’t be bothered to think too hard about them. Not when it was feeling so _good_. And it was feeling very, very good indeed. I panted, my chest rising and falling as I breathed in and out, feeling the arousal growing and growing inside of me as I touched myself. Oh _man_ , this felt good. I gasped, my other hand coming up to play with my breasts, fingers gliding over my curves and paying some serious attention to my nipples.  
  
I was wet by now, arousal leaking out of me in small trickles. My nipples were stiff as well. I was feeling _really_ good. But I could also be feeling a whole lot better. I shivered and kept on working on my orgasm, letting the tips of my fingers press against the entrance to my pussy.  
  
Then I slid on inside. That felt _good_. I moaned, giving voice to my feelings as I felt the finger slide deeper and deeper inside of me. My hips twitched back and forth, grinding against the grass as I felt the pleasure building up inside of me. Like this, just like this, this was what I needed. I shakily sighed and glanced over at Irene.  
  
She was watching me _very_ intently. Her erection was pretty obvious. I was kind of surprised that she wasn’t actually masturbating to the sight of me. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. This was a pretty hot sight, after all.  
  
I didn’t say anything and instead focused on taking care of myself. I added a second finger and kept on taking care of myself. My other hand was busy with my breasts, taking care of my large orbs and sending jolts of pleasure washing through my body as I masturbated. My tongue flicked out to lick at my lips as I kept on going.  
  
Normally, I would have something hot and steamy pulled up on my phone to look at while I was doing this. But even though I didn’t have anything going on in the way of visual stimulation, I was still _really_ enjoying this. Partly because I was showing off in front of Irene and her careful gaze as she watched me helped give me some more fuel.  
  
And also, it was a bit fun and a but embarrassing to be doing this out in the open where anyone could catch me. Nobody was, I was sure of that, but just the _idea_ helped add a bit more spice to everything. Of course, actually getting caught would be the farthest thing from sexy that I could dream of, but with any luck that wouldn’t happen.  
  
“Now,” I said, distantly remembering that I was supposed to be teaching Irene about how to a grown woman would masturbate, “I like to draw things out when I don’t have anything else to do.” I shivered as my fingers stroked the inside of my pussy. “I build myself up and then let myself come down, just a little bit, so I don’t cum too soon.”  
  
“But it feels really good to cum,” Irene pointed out. “It’s the best thing ever, getting to orgasm.”  
  
“Yes, an orgasm does feel good,” I said, sliding my fingers out from me and instead stroking my thighs. Small trails of arousal were left behind. “But the actual masturbation can feel very nice as well. And when there’s an orgasm at the end of it all, that can make things be even _better_ , an hour or so of nothing but wonderful pleasure.”  
  
I probably wasn’t going to spend that long masturbating. There were other things to do and if I just upped and vanished for an hour, there were pretty good odds that someone was going to come looking for me. And boy, wouldn’t _that_ be something fun to explain to Maria about why I was naked and touching myself, in front of the boss’s daughter.  
  
Instead, I returned my fingers to my pussy and kept on playing with my body. It felt _nice_. It felt really, really nice and I breathed in and out, feeling the pleasure pulsing and building inside of me as I worked myself up.  
  
Irene was carefully studying me, watching everything I was doing with an intent look on her face. Her hands twitched towards herself from time to time but she never actually started masturbating. Instead, she just kept on staring, watching and licking her lips from time to time.  
  
Irene was actually providing me the fuel I needed for my masturbation. I was picturing how nice it would be to have her with me, on top of me as her cock was pumping in and out of me. It had been a _long_ time since I had gotten a proper fucking and Irene could give me exactly what I needed. That would be a step too far, though and I didn’t want to push Irene into something she wasn’t ready for. Instead, I just kept on masturbating, thoroughly enjoying the thought of getting to have Irene all to myself as my fingers stroked my insides and played with my breasts.  
  
I pinched my nipple, not squeezing down _too_ hard, obviously. Just enough to send a fun thrill through my body, something that made me moan. More and more arousal was running out of me now, just pouring down my skin and onto the grass in a lewd stream. It was a good thing that I had brought some napkins with me out from the kitchen because I was going to need to do some clean up after I was done.  
  
That could wait, though. Right now, I didn’t need to focus on anything but my own pleasure, how good I could make myself feel as I kept on masturbating. And I was making myself feel _very_ good indeed as I worked myself over. Irene’s intent, wondering gaze made things pretty nice as well, giving me something extra to help feed the fires burning inside of me.  
  
“Abby,” Irene said softly. “That looks like it feels so good.”  
  
“It does,” I said quickly, nodding in complete and utter agreement. “It feels _wonderful_.” I smiled at her, feeling beads of sweat running down my forehead. “If you want to masturbate as well, I won’t mind.”  
  
Irene started at that and looked down at her crotch. Had she not been aware of just how hard she was? How _cute_. She looked up at me, licking her lips nervously, before glancing back down at her crotch. Then she nodded.  
  
She didn’t put on a show at all as she lifted her skirt up to get at her dick. She started masturbating pretty quickly and furiously, just pumping her hand up and down along her dick. I was certain that she was going to cum long before I would. Oh well, that wasn’t _really_ my problem, was it? And it was going to make her feel good anyway, so why not just give in and enjoy it?  
  
I supposed I could pick up the pace myself. With how good I was feeling, was there any reason not to feel even _better_ by cumming? I shivered and started being a bit more… enthused in my ministrations to myself, using one finger to pay some attention to my clit as I kept up the hard work.  
  
It felt _good_. That came as quite the surprise. I snorted and spread my legs a bit further apart. That felt nice. I breathed in and out, feeling the pleasure building in and out as I got to feel the lust building and building inside of me. I stared at Irene as she did the same. I could picture her with me so _easily_ , pressing her body up against me as her dick slid in and out of me. Oh man, I could picture that _really_ easily.  
  
I moaned, twisting around on the grass, my back banging against the tree trunk I was learning against. I breathed in and out, feeling the lust spreading through my entire body. Oh _man_ , was I feeling horny. I needed a little bit more, just a little bit more. I stared at Irene, her lewd face as she masturbated giving me all of the fuel I needed to cum.  
  
I sped up, my fingers moving faster and faster inside of me. I gasped, twitching around, my feet kicking against the grass as I felt the pleasure growing hotter and hotter, ever more demanding. I wasn’t going to be able to last for much longer. I was going to be cumming _soo_ n and it was going to feel so very, very good.  
  
“Abby,” Irene moaned, her eyes closed as her hand sped up, moving up and down faster and faster along her prick, so fast that it was even starting to blur a bit. “I’m going- Oh Abby!”  
  
With that she came, rocking back and forth so much it was a miracle that she didn’t end up flat on her back. I watched with intent interest, seeing her dick twitching back and forth as it unloaded itself all over the grass, a few stray jets landing on Irene’s skin. Something to take care of later, but right now, all I needed was seeing just how _cute_ Irene was.  
  
Because it was enough to push me over the edge as well. I gasped, falling backwards against the tree trunk as I finally came. It felt wonderful, even better than a normal orgasm. I gasped, my eyes wide and staring upwards as I felt the pleasure coursing through my body.  
  
My pussy squeezed down tight around my fingers, sending wonderful feelings flowing through my body. I gasped, white bursts appearing in front of my eyes for a few seconds as I felt my entire body shake and quiver underneath the force of the pleasure I was feeling.  
  
Finally, the pleasure died down inside of me. I was still feeling good. I was still feeling _really_ good, but it wasn’t the high of an orgasm anymore. I breathed in and out, feeling my heart pounding in my chest as I panted for breath.  
  
“Wow,” I moaned, drawing my fingers out of my pussy. “I mean, _wow_.”  
  
“That felt amazing, right?” Irene asked happily, tugging her dress down to cover herself up as a proper lady should. While I didn’t have any plans to get dressed again for a while. “That _looked_ amazing.”  
  
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “It did feel good. Really,” I stretched, feeling the tingles still spread throughout my body, “really good.”  
“Thank you, Abby,” Irene said shyly. “That was _so_ hot, I’m going to be thinking about it all day.” She giggled. “It was _really_ cool.”  
  
I smiled. I was going to be thinking about Irene masturbating in front of me for longer than just the rest of the day. Because, again, it was hot, seeing her slender, still immature face screwed up in concentration as she masturbated, getting off because of how hot I was. That was something that was really nice to think about, really.  
  
I picked up my glass of lemonade and drained it almost dry in a single swallow. That sort of thing could feel really good, but it could also work up one heck of a thirst. I sighed in satisfaction and smacked my lips together as I felt the aftershocks of pleasure still twitching around inside of me.  
  
“You look so _nice_ naked,” Irene said, studying me carefully. “I kind of wish that you would… never mind!” She added hurriedly, blushing prettily and yanking her gaze away.  
  
“You wish that I was naked all of the time?” I asked teasingly, deciding that as fun as it might be for her, it was time for _me_ to get dressed. “Well, that’s a nice dream, but where would I keep my pockets if I was naked?”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Irene said. “Maybe…” she stared at me, my naked body still thoroughly distracting her and driving her train of thought off the rails. “Wow.”  
  
I laughed as I started to get dressed. What a cute little girl she was. It was a pity I couldn’t spend more time with her like this. It really was perfect, relaxing and sensual and just between the two of us. And nobody else ever had to know about it. Not the rest of the mansion, not Balducci, nobody. It was a secret the two of us could have and share together, just like the other… services I had provided to her.  
  
Before I could get more than my underwear on, Irene sat down on my lap, wiggling around and pressing against me until she was comfortable. I grunted a bit at that, _especially_ because one of her elbows got me in the stomach as she was getting comfortable. I didn’t say anything, though, and just waited until she was done. She sighed in satisfaction and tilted her head back up to look at me. That had the side effect of pushing her head even more firmly against my boobs.  
  
“That was wonderful, Abby,” Irene said. “I just want you to know how much I enjoyed that.”  
  
“I liked it as well,” I said, giving her a hug and giving up on getting dressed for a while. “You made me feel very nice, watching me as I took care of myself.”  
  
“I wish we could do that kind of stuff all the time,” Irene said in a contented voice. “Like back at the movie theater and that thing you did with, you know,” her hands waved in front of her, “your breasts, those felt good as well.”  
  
“They were supposed to,” I said, patting her stomach and smiling. “That’s why I did them.”  
  
Irene giggled at that and wiggled around a bit more. It felt kind of strange to be sitting here, half-naked and having a young girl like Irene resting against me. But I wasn’t really complaining. It felt strange, but it also felt _nice_. Just sitting here, holding her, it was really enjoyable. I breathed in and out, faintly smelling the scent of Irene’s perfume mixing in with the floral scents from the garden.  
  
“You’re the best maid that’s ever worked here,” Irene declared. “I’ve never liked any of them like I like you.”  
  
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a bit guilty over the fact that I had put a lot of time and effort into getting her to like me like that. “And of all of the twelve-year-old girls I’ve worked as a maid for, you’re the best one by far.”  
  
Irene didn’t seem to notice how narrow that description was and just nodded, resting her head against my breasts. There was a small smile on her face as she sat there, enjoying herself. I was enjoying myself as well, holding her in a loose hug, my hands resting on her stomach.  
  
We sat there in silence for a while, Irene twitching around from time to time as I held onto her. I was actually feeling a bit sleepy and had to stifle a yawn from time to time. I shook my head back and forth, doing my best to banish the tiredness. I needed to stay alert, after all. If someone came looking for me, I needed to at the very least shove Irene out to meet them while I got dressed. Someone coming around the shrubbery and seeing the two of us like this, well, I was good at acting and lying. But nobody was _that_ good at acting.  
  
“I hope you stay with us forever,” Irene said quietly, sleep starting to clog up her voice. Now that just wasn’t fair. “You can spend time with me and you can… do stuff and everything.”  
  
“That would be nice,” I said, nodding along and blinking as I fought off the urge to take a nap. “But who knows what the future holds?”  
  
It certainly didn’t hold me working here forever, no matter how cute Irene was. The pay _really_ wasn’t that good and I had three hundred and fifty thousand euros waiting for me as soon as I finished the _real_ job. It would mean giving up on Irene, though, and that was _not_ something I felt wild about. She was such a nice girl, after all, and I would miss her. But what else could I do? I was already _really_ pushing the limit of what I could do, since I was going to do my best to make sure that Irene at least didn’t have an compromising photos taken of her. What more was there for me to do?  
  
I sighed heavily and tightened the hug, holding Irene close up against me. Sometimes I wondered if this really was the right career path, if the money was worth having to think about things like this. But it was too late to back out of it now, wasn’t it? I just had to stay the course, get the pay and get out of here. And leave Irene behind.  
  
“Okay, Irene,” I said, gently sliding her off of my lap, “if you need to take a nap, I can go get you a pillow or something.”  
  
“But your breasts are so much softer than a pillow,” she whined, opening one eye to look up at me as I grabbed my maid uniform. “And you’re so nice and warm.”  
  
My smile at that was entirely sincere. It felt nice to get an honest compliment. But I didn’t let it dissuade me.  
  
“Yes, but I still need to get dressed,” I said, sliding the skirt up my legs and fastening it. “And they just wouldn’t be as comfortable with my uniform in the way.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll ask Father to have you become my official pillow at nights,” Irene said, giggling a bit as she stood up and dusted herself off.  
  
Personally, I thought it was far more likely that he would have me serve as _his_ personal pillow. And a whole lot more. All I could say was that it was a good thing that he was so busy with the merger with the Cruz family that he didn’t have time to properly _appreciate_ the maids that he hired to work at the mansion. There was no reason to tell that sort of thing to Irene, though. I was sure she was well aware of it, anyway.  
  
“If you think that is for the best,” I said smoothly, gathering everything together after I finished getting dressed. “For now, though, I’ll go bring this back inside.”  
  
“Okay,” Irene said, stretching out on the grass and smiling. She looked up at the leafy branches of the trees overhead. “This is the perfect afternoon, isn’t it?”  
  
I had to agree.

*******

I had just finished vacuuming the lounge when I felt a presence behind me. I turned my head quickly, wondering who it was and how long they had been there, unheard over the roar of the vacuum cleaner.  
  
It was Mr. Rose, a small smile on his lips and nothing at all in his eyes. Oh boy.  
  
“It’s Abby, isn’t it?” he asked, drumming his fingers on the back of a chair.  
  
“Yes, sir,” I said quietly, not quite looking at him directly and not sure of looking submissive and vulnerable would be better than ‘treating him as an equal’ by looking him in the eyes.  
  
“We haven’t gotten the chance to talk very much, have we?” He said, taking a few steps closer to me. He was pretty much right in front of me now, _very_ close now. “You’re new, after all.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” I said, winding the last of the power cord around the vacuum’s hook. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work that needs doing.”  
  
“Oh, there’s no rush,” he said, stepping to the side to put himself between me and the door. “After all, as your employer I can decide when and what you should be doing.” He looked me up and down. “And there’s all kinds of things that you should be doing.”  
  
Had he always been this direct and coarse, or had years of power and wealth stripped away any sense of tact when dealing with the hired help? Or with attractive women who needed something from him. And it wasn’t like I could do anything about it, since my job wasn’t remotely finished yet.  
  
“I always try to do my best, Mr. Rose,” I said quietly.  
  
“Yes, I’ve seen you around the place,” he said. “Turn around for me.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” I said, doing so. As I faced away from him, I let my feelings show on my face, my lips drawing back from my teeth in a near-feral snarl. By the time I was facing him again, my face was calm with just a bit of worry hidden underneath it. “Will that be all, sir?”  
  
“Oh, I hardly think so,” he said, taking another step towards me and sliding his hand up underneath my skirt.  
  
I blinked and barely stopped myself from lashing out and sinking my fist into his gut. I could feel his fingers groping me as he looked me in the eyes.  
  
“Sir!” I said, raising my voice, hoping that someone would hear and that he wouldn’t keep on doing this in front of a third party. “I was hired to clean the house-“  
  
“In this outfit and looking like you do,” Mr. Rose said calmly, still groping my thigh, his hand moving to the inside of my leg. “Don’t pretend that you didn’t know this was going to be a part of your duties.”  
  
I groaned through my clenched teeth as I weighed my options. None of them were very good. There were the ones that would be _satisfying_ and would also require me to leave town before the hour was out. And then there was staying right where I was and letting him have his fun with me, which wasn’t exactly a bed of roses.  
  
“What do you say to having some fun, just you and me, right here and now?” Mr. Rose asked.  
  
Well, ‘asked’. It wasn’t really a question. I struggled to think of a way to get out of this that would let me keep on working here, but nothing was coming to mind. My eyes darted around the room, my brain trying to come up with _something_ that would work as a distraction to get him focused on something else.  
  
“Father?” Irene asked from the doorway.  
  
Both of our heads snapped over to look at her. She was holding a book to her chest and her face was completely and utterly blank. I knew from personal experience what kind of blank it was, the sort where she was using all of her will to keep it blank instead of letting what she was actually feeling show on her face.  
  
“Ah, Irene,” Mr. Rose said, withdrawing his hand from underneath my skirt, as if that would make Irene not have seen what had happened. “Is your homework done?”  
  
“Yes, Father,” Irene said, her voice very calm and very flat. “I was just coming down to read my book.”  
  
I made my escape, grabbing the cleaner in one hand and letting it bump after me as I walked towards the door as quickly as I could. I glanced at Irene. She was looking at her father, but she glanced at me as I passed by her. There was a blend of emotions in her eyes too complex for me to decipher. Then I was past her and heading towards the servant’s area of the mansion.  
  
Well, I supposed that had to have happened sooner or later. I made a face while thinking that. That didn’t mean that I had been looking forward to it. And I owed Irene something _very_ special as a thank you for getting me out of that. I wasn’t sure what it would be, but I was glad that she had come to bail me out of that.  
  
She was far too good of a girl to be her father’s daughter.

*******

It was another big party. Just as many people here as there had been before. In fact, I was seeing pretty much the same faces as I ran from spot to spot with my tray of drinks and snack food. I did my best to keep track of Irene and Maria, of course. Mostly Irene. Although it was also a good idea to keep track of my ‘boss’, the head maid, who was _also_ named Maria. Luckily, Rubio’s girlfriend, who was, again, named Maria didn’t seem to be here tonight, so I didn’t need to keep a mental division in place for her as well.  
  
Instead, I needed to focus on doing my job, keeping an eye on Irene as she stood next to her parents and not getting groped by any of the hanger-ons that were cluttering up the mansion. I did a pretty good job on all three, although I would be _very_ glad to get rid of my high heels when this was all over.  
  
I wasn’t the only maid here, of course. The entire household staff was on call. I had even seen the gardener grumbling to himself in the kitchen as he helped out the cooks make the food for all of this. But only the maids were in the public eye and I _was_ the hottest maid here. And the men (and it was almost entirely men, except for a few bits of arm candy that knew better than to say anything) were at the stage where they had drunk enough that groping the hired help seemed like a good idea, but hadn’t started falling over. Yet, at least.  
  
At least it wasn’t all that difficult to keep track of Irene, thankfully. She didn’t move around very much and stayed close to her parents. She wore a small smile on her face as she was introduced to various movers and shakers of the two crime families. I could tell that the smile had as much meaning as the dress she was wearing, though. Well, with any luck, she wouldn’t have to do this sort of thing again after tonight.  
  
I also kept my ears open for anything useful that the thugs, accountants and hit men might discuss, but so far I was coming up bone dry. The main topic of conversation was the prospects of the local football league and if one of the players in it might be able to move up to a larger team. To the extent that they talked about work, they were griping over things like coworkers, or how hard it was to get a good night’s sleep when they needed to wake up so early. There was absolutely nothing there that I could use. Oh well, there were some pretty good odds that nothing I could say would get Balducci to pay me anyway once tonight was done.  
  
I noticed that Irene was starting to look tired and hid her mouth behind her hand for a moment. Well, if that wasn’t the perfect excuse, what would be? I made my way to the center of the room as Irene helpfully yawned again, this time much more noticeably.  
  
Irene was looking very cute and presentable in her blue dress, that complimented her face and hair very nicely. It wasn’t quite the best that money could buy, but it was still obviously a very expensive dress that she looked very nice in.  
  
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said, bowing to Irene’s mother, a woman I had never really dealt with. Mostly because of how it was very, _very_ obvious what she thought of the sexy maids that her husband hired and harassed. “Should I take the young mistress up to her room to rest for a while?”  
  
Mrs. Rose gave me a cool look and then glanced down at Irene. Irene helpfully yawned on cue, blinking a bit and swaying back and forth just a tad. She was rather overselling it, but I was hardly going to comment on that.  
  
“Oh, very well,” she said, waving her hand and taking another sip from her glass flute. “Come back down when you’re done, we’re not paying you to slack off upstairs.”  
  
“Of course, ma’am,” I said, stepping backwards as Irene walked towards me, a small smile appearing on her face and gradually starting to grow. I could see Maria glancing at us with a curious expression on her face as well.  
  
Luckily, nobody at the party was so drunk that they thought it was a good idea to harass the maid escorting the boss’s daughter. We headed up the stairs with nobody following us. Which was a bit of a pity, since I needed at least one person to do so, so there would be a point to all of this. Or at least an end. Because I did enjoy spending time with Irene.  
  
As I guided Irene to her bedroom upstairs, I took the chance to flip down my hemline a bit more. The dress showed off a lot of my breasts normally, but now I was showing enough that excessive jiggling would be a real problem if I walked too fast. And even if I didn’t, excessive male attention would _also_ be a problem. I was going to have to remember to readjust my uniform before I went back out onto the floor. Assuming I did so again, and that I wouldn’t be leaving the Rose mansion for good in half an hour or so.  
  
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Irene said, giving me a quick hug as we walked along. “Ugh, it’s all so _boring_.”  
  
“It probably would have been much more enjoyable if there had been some people your own age there,” I said. “Besides Maria.”  
  
Irene made another face at that and nodded. Then she glanced up at me as I opened the door to her bedroom and ushered her inside.  
  
“Actually,” Irene said, turning around in the middle of the bedroom. “Maybe it can be a party with just the two of us?” She looked off to the side and blushed, one foot kicking back and forth, scuffing against the carpet. “That would be a lot more enjoyable way to spend time together, right?”  
  
It sure beat wandering around the ground floor of the mansion, wondering when I could take my break and who was going to grope me. Even if I _hadn’t_ been meaning to seduce Irene, I probably still would have agreed to spend some time with her. I nodded and closed the door. Though I didn’t close it _all_ of the way. Just in case someone ended up coming by, I wanted them (her) to be able to see what was going on.  
  
“Of course, Irene,” I said, walking over to join her as she sat down heavily on her bed. I kicked off my heels as I sat down and sighed in satisfaction. “What would you like to do?”  
  
I got my answer as her head plopped into my lap. I grunted in surprise, looking down at her as a smile started to appear on my lips. That _was_ cute. I started to stroke her hair, running my hand back and forth through her blonde locks.  
  
“I’ll need to go back down there sooner or later,” Irene said with a heavy sigh. “But for now, let’s just spend some time with each other.”  
  
“There’s nothing I’d like more,” I said warmly, noting how Irene’s cheeks flushed and how her hands tightened.  
  
“Thanks, Abby,” Irene said with a sigh as she closed her eyes.  
  
I kept on stroking her hair as she rested her head on my lap. It felt nice. It felt _really_ nice, a wonderful warm flow of emotion welling up inside of me as I looked down at her and stroked her hair. She really was the cutest girl I had seen in a good long while. And for more than just her looks, although those were pretty nice as well.  
  
After a while, Irene sat back up and stretched. I weaved to one side to get out of the way of her arms. Then she looked up at me and smiled.  
  
“That felt nice, Abby,” she said, starting to swing her feet back and forth. “But could we do something else instead?’  
  
“Of course,” I said. “What are you thinking about?”  
  
I had a pretty good idea what was on her mind, of course, but it didn’t hurt to make sure. After all, putting the moves on a girl as young as her could only be justified (to myself at least) if she _wanted_ me to put the moves on her.  
  
“We’re all alone and everyone else is busy,” Irene said, blushing hard as she obviously forced herself to maintain eye contact with me. “So maybe we could,” she swallowed heavily, “maybe we could do some stuff together? You know, like before?”  
  
“You mean like at the movie theater?” I asked calmly, smiling.  
  
“Yeah,” Irene said, nodding quickly and blushing hard. “Just like that.”  
  
“I think that could happen,” I said with a smile, putting my hand on her shoulder and feeling her trembling underneath my fingers. “If that’s what you want.”  
  
Irene nodded quickly, her head bobbing up and down as she looked up at me. And at my breasts. It was a bit hard _not_ to notice how she was staring at my breasts, actually. Of course, they were very large breasts that were on display.  
  
“I do,” Irene said. “The way you make me feel just when we’re together…” she squirmed around on the bed, pressing herself closer up against me. “And that’s just when you’re talking and giving me advice. When we do stuff like _that_ , it feels really, really,” she waved her hands around, as if to put everything that she felt into a container. “I’ve never felt like that about anyone else before, Abby.”  
  
“You’re very special to me as well,” I said with a smile, realizing with a shock just how true those words were. I cared about Abby more than I did anyone else in the entire town. “It’s always a pleasure to see you when I come in to work.”  
  
Irene smiled widely at that, looking like, well, a giddy schoolgirl. Her arms flashed out and wrapped me in a hug. That took me by surprise for a few minutes, before I returned the hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her and squeezing her in turn. I could feel her slender body underneath my arms. I could even feel her heart beating.  
  
And I could see that her cock was getting harder and harder inside of her dress. Well, now I would _have_ to take care of that before she could go back down to the party, wouldn’t I? It just wouldn’t be proper for a young lady to walk around sporting a hard-on like that.  
  
“You can just relax, Irene,” I said soothingly as I broke the hug and started to slide off of the bed. “I’m going to take care of _everything_ for you, alright?”  
  
Irene nodded, her eyes going wide and her cheeks going red. Oh man, she was just so _cute_. I got down on my knees, right in front of her, looking up at her and smiling as sweetly as I could as I stared. She stared back down at me, her small tongue flicking out to lick her lips.  
  
I went to my knees in front of Irene, looking up at her. My maid uniform showed off a _lot_ of cleavage and now that I was on my knees, Irene had the height needed to properly appreciate it. And it was pretty obvious that she _was_ appreciating it, as she stared down at my large breasts, barely contained inside of the uniform.  
  
I lowered my gaze to look at her crotch. Her dick was getting pretty hard and I’d say it was just about ready for me to take care. How _was_ I going to take care of her? Not actual sex, I thought. That would be moving too far, too fast. And anal sex was obviously right out. Irene might be disgusted just by the idea and even if she was in favor of it, I wouldn’t be doing that until I got myself cleaned out back there. But that still left options.  
  
A blowjob, handjob or titjob were all pretty obvious options. There was also a thigh-job or hotdogging. But, in the end, I decided on a good old-fashioned blowjob. My skills in that area had never exactly been top of the line and I was rusty at it anyway. But it wasn’t like Irene was going to know the difference. Heck, I was willing to put pretty good odds on her just flat-out not lasting long enough to actually remember what getting a blowjob was like.  
  
First things first, I needed to get at her cock. I lifted her skirt up and pulled down her panties, staring up at her all the while to make sure that she was enjoying this. Because if she wasn’t, then that would be the end of things, right then and there.  
  
But she was. She quite obviously was, with a wonderful look of excitement and anticipation on her face as she looked down at me. I smiled at her and she blushed again before I looked down at her dick.  
  
It was a pretty nice dick, just like the previous times I had examined it. Quite hard, too, outright twitching around and leaking precum already. And I hadn’t even gotten started.  
  
I wrapped my hand around Irene’s shaft and slowly pumped it up and down, feeling the heat and the hardness underneath my hand. There was always something so _thrilling_ about touching a cock like this. And it was even better when it was the cock of someone I actually cared about.  
  
I didn’t waste too much time giving Irene a handjob, though. She was only going to have so much endurance, after all and I didn’t want to have her cum before I even got to see how she tasted. I had only done a few strokes before I lowered my head down to her rod, sticking out my tongue. I gave the shaft a nice long lick from top to bottom, feeling it pulsing against my tongue.  
  
Irene made a really lovely noise at that, which was all the encouragement I needed to do it all over again. I smiled up at her as I ran my tongue in reverse, feeling and seeing her shaking back and forth in front of me, like a willow tree in the wind.  
  
“Abby,” Irene moaned, sounding cuter than words could describe. “It’s _good_.”  
  
“And it’s going to get better,” I said before returning to what I was doing.  
  
I split my attention between watching Irene’s face and paying attention to what I was doing with her cock. That seemed like a good idea, funnily enough.  
  
So far, I was just licking and stroking it. I hadn’t wrapped my lips around it yet. Best to ease Irene into that. And it wasn’t like I was in a hurry to start fucking my face on her cock or anything. I liked being able to talk after giving a blowjob, funnily enough.  
  
The licking couldn’t last forever, though. After a while, I decided that Irene was finally ready. And that if I waited much longer, I wasn’t going to give her an actual blowjob at _all_. Irene was looking pretty dazedly happy as I worked my way along her rod and I wanted to actually take her inside of my mouth.  
  
“I know it feels good, Irene,” I said, stopping my ministrations for a minute. “But you need to hold on for as long as you can, okay? It will feel so much better when you do cum.”  
  
“It feels good now,” Irene said, her voice wobbling. “I’m getting so _close_ , Abby!”  
  
“Do it for me,” I said, brushing my fingertips up and down along her cock. “Just keep on holding out for a bit.”  
  
Irene hesitated and then nodded. I smiled at her and wrapped my lips around her cock. I started to sink down, feeling the shaft poking farther and farther inside of my mouth. It was pretty hot, actually.  
  
I glanced over at the door. I could see a hint of green beyond it, the same shade of green as the dress that Maria had been wearing. I quickly looked back to Irene’s cock, not wanting to give the game away just yet. Irene didn’t suspect a thing and I kept on bobbing up and down, feeling her shaft hitting the back of my throat as I sucked on her rod.  
  
I was getting all kinds of worked up as I went down along her cock. And I didn’t need both hands to take care of Irene’s cock. Really, I didn’t need _any_ hands. I could just keep on sucking her dick while tending to my own needs. So I started to do exactly that.  
  
One hand went down in between my legs, rubbing at my pussy through my maid uniform. It didn’t feel _great_ , but it still felt nice. And my other hand went to my chest, playing with my boobs. That felt a lot better, especially because Irene was staring intently at them, a wide-eyed look on her face as I played with myself in front of her.  
  
I could feel my panties starting to get wet as I bobbed up and down along Irene’s cock. That was helped by the attention I was paying to my body, of course. I shivered and kept on going, doing my best to reward Irene for her patience. She was such a _good_ , sweet girl, after all.  
  
I couldn’t quite take myself all the way down to Irene’s base. Not without deepthroating her, at least and that was something that I wasn’t quite ready to do just yet. Not that Irene was complaining about it, of course. Even if she knew that deepthroating was a thing, there was no way that she would feel upset over _not_ getting it done to her.  
  
Instead, she just let me keep on sucking her cock, bobbing up and down along it and doing my absolute best to make her feel as good as possible. And myself as well. And I liked to think I was doing a pretty good job on both accounts, although obviously I was making Irene feel a _lot_ better than I was making myself feel. But that was _quite_ alright. If worst came to worst, I could always masturbate when I was alone.  
  
I was ready to deepthroat Irene’s cock. And I did so, feeling her rod sliding past my mouth, into my throat. I sank even further than before along her cock, until my nose was pressed right up against the few, thin blonde hairs she had at her crotch. Then I stayed there for a while, looking up at her as I held myself with her entire dick inside of me.  
  
The expression on Irene’s face really was something wonderful. She obviously couldn’t quite believe that this was really happening, that I was _actually_ taking care of her like this. And she was obviously enjoying it. Enjoying it a whole lot. I could have told that even without feeling her cock twitching around in my throat.  
  
Finally, the need to breathe made me pull back, Irene’s cock slowly sliding out of my throat. I didn’t go all the way, though, and she still filled up my mouth, her cock starting to drool precum. It barely tasted like anything and it wasn’t as if I needed the lubrication right here. It was still a nice touch, though and I kept on going, deepthroating Irene just like a good maid should. I wondered if she was going to get a fetish from me wearing this outfit.  
  
Maria was still watching silently from the door. I couldn’t see her face and had no idea what she was thinking. Probably something along the lines of shock and disbelief. I didn’t feel _great_ over doing this to Irene, but I didn’t really feel bad about it either. Anyway, would she really have been happy in a marriage with a girl who didn’t love her?  
  
I pushed thoughts of her to one side as I kept on sucking Irene’s cock. Up and down, up and down, not stopping a bit as I sucked the young girl off. She was enjoying herself, her hands clutching at each other, at her widely spread knees, at the bed. I was honestly surprised that she wasn’t grabbing my hair, either to control how fast I sucked her cock or just for something else to grab onto.  
  
And I was still masturbating, of course. I probably _wasn’t_ going to cum from this, not unless Irene saw what I was doing and told or asked me to continue. But it still felt _good_.  
  
I could hear the creak of the bedroom door as it swung open, just a little bit. Irene didn’t, but, then again, she had quite a bit on her mind right now. I glanced over and saw that Maria had opened the door a hair and had taken another step closer. I could see the expression of shock on her face as she stared. But she didn’t say or do anything.  
  
And that was alright with me. She could see what was going on just fine, and that was all I needed to have happen. Even if she herself was kind and forgiving enough to still want Irene after this, I was almost certain she would tell her father about it. And he _wouldn’t_ be nearly so accommodating, with any luck at all. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to be, not with his men hearing about how his daughter was getting cuckolded (or whatever the feminine variant of that was) during an engagement party.  
  
Irene finally reached her limit. She moaned and rocked back and forth on the bed, until I almost thought she was going to fall on top of me. My eyes got a bit wide at that in worry and then I was distracted by something else.  
  
Namely, all of the cum that was starting to flow into my mouth and down my throat. There was a _lot_ of it, too. Irene must be really pent up. Did she even know how to masturbate? That was actually a pretty fun thought, Irene being so dependent on me for sexual pleasure that she never even learned how to make herself feel good.  
  
That thought flashed through my head in a single instant as I felt Irene’s cum start to cover my throat in sticky, hot, white semen. There was just so _much_ of it. How could a girl that small hold so much cum? It felt like there was no end to it as I got filled up, feeling my stomach start to take it, the warm cum blazing a trail down my throat like a good, solid shot of whiskey.  
  
Irene was making some really cute faces. And some pretty funny ones as well, actually. The way she looked, oh, I just wanted to scoop her up in a hug and hold her close to me. But I stayed right where I was, my hands rubbing against myself as I felt the pleasure washing through me as well. It wasn’t an orgasm, but it was still good enough to make me feel wonderful and tingly as I felt my fingers pressing against my pussy and tending to my nipples.  
  
Finally, Irene stopped cumming, her cock still buried down my throat. It was slowly going soft, even though the situation was obviously _very_ erotic. I slowly slid backwards, feeling the rod coming out of me before popping out from in between my lips and swaying back and forth. There was only a bit of cum on it, the rest of Irene’s load sitting inside of my belly.  
  
I glanced over at the door. Maria was still there, looking in at us with a shocked expression on her face. I could see her lips working soundlessly as she watched me lick up the rest of the cum off of her fiancée’s cock.  
  
Then she backed up, hitting the wall on the other side of the hallway with a noticeable thump. Irene heard that and looked up, just in time to see the flash of Maria’s green dress and hear the sounds of her feet pattering against the floor.  
  
“Wait,” Irene said, rising to her feet and pressing herself against me before I scrambled backwards and stood up as well. “Was that Maria?”  
  
“Yes, I think it was,” I said, twitching my dress back up to the normal position. “And I’m sure she saw what I was doing to you.”  
  
“Father’s going to be furious when he hears that,” Irene said, before looking at me with wide eyes. “He’s going to be furious at _you_ , Abby!” She grabbed my arm and tried to tug me towards the door. “You have to get out of here while you still can, please!”  
  
I took a step after her, feeling a bit of shock at how quickly she was putting that together. But she would have seen her father when he was mad, so it made sense that she would be worried about me.  
  
I already had a plan to get out of here, of course. Not just out of the Rose’s mansion but out of Pavioa entirely. I had a car waiting for me just down the hill, barely out of sight of the mansion’s front gates. I knew a good spot to go over the wall, and the car was waiting for me with everything I needed in it. A change of clothes, a new ID, some spending money and, of course, a full tank of gas. It was time for me to bid farewell to the town and to Irene, never to see any of them again.  
  
That thought sent a pang through me. Never being able to see the dear, sweet, intelligent Irene was quite a blow. I swallowed.  
  
“Don’t worry, Irene,” I said, slipping my heels on. “I’m going to leave right now. And-,” I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that every second I was still inside the mansion was a mistake. But some mistakes were worth making. “I’m glad that I got to know you, Irene.” I leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her forehead, before straightening up and heading for the window.  
  
I had hauled it open and had one leg outside, my foot groping for the trellis when Irene rushed up to me, clinging to my arm. I looked down at her. There was a tearful expression on her face.  
  
“You planned this, didn’t you, Abby?” Irene asked, her voice wavering. “You knew that Maria was going to be watching us. And,” she blinked and gasped. “Did someone hire you to do this?”  
  
I gasped as well, shocked at how quickly she was putting the pieces together. Before I could say anything, though, I heard overlapping voices and some loud footsteps coming up the hallway.  
  
Irene heard them too. She looked at me, at the door and then back at me. She let go of my arm and dashed over to the door, hauling it closed and slamming the lock shut. Then she was back at my side in just a few seconds.  
  
“Did you ever mean anything you said to me?” Irene asked, clutching my arm tightly, her fingers digging in through the black cloth and squeezing down into the meat of my arm. “You told me the truth at least once, right?”  
  
“Yes, I did,” I said, as the voices reached Irene’s door. The knob rattled and I glanced over at it, wondering just how sturdy it really was. “You are a sweet, intelligent, kind girl with a big heart, Irene. Spending time with you was far more enjoyable than almost anything I’ve done in the past three years.”  
  
Irene nodded, wincing as a fist slammed against the door and her father ordered her to open it. She looked at me and took a deep breath.  
  
“Then take me with you,” Irene said. “Wherever you’re going, I want to come as well.”  
  
I licked my lips, staring down at Irene in shock. That was- that was quite the request. I looked at her, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes even as she tried to look very brace. I made my decision and nodded, scooping an arm around her waist and lifting her up.  
  
“Come on then,” I said, holding her close to me as I swung out of the window. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I started to climb down the trellis. “We’ve got a long way to go yet.”  
  
“Thank you, Abby,” she said as I dropped down to the garden bed, trampling some flowers underneath me. “Thank you so much.”  
  
We took off running towards the lawn, to the spot where I had hidden a ladder. My body was almost moving on instinct. Hell, my mind was too, saying yes to letting Irene come with me. Was I going to be wanted for kidnapping this time tomorrow? Where was I going to get some papers done up for Irene? Could she speak French well enough to pass for a native? Would she still think that this was a good idea tomorrow? Would she still think so after sleeping in a motel, after doing her own laundry?  
  
Time alone would tell, I supposed. But at least I still got to be with her more. And that was worth quite a lot.


End file.
